Page 42 of Moto
I grab two more cold ones from the fridge and the two slices of the now lukewarm pizza.
I place the plates on the glass table and hand Reese his beer. Before I have a chance to sit, he yanks on my wrist and pulls me next to him. “You were sitting too far away before.”
I try to object, but he shushes me.
“I found a compromise.” He clicks on new releases and selectsPride and Prejudice and Zombies. “Perfect mix of romance and Rambo.”
“I’m shocked. I didn’t think your ego allowed you to be capable of compromise.”
“Don’t tell anyone.” He moves his lips close to my ear. “Every once in a while, I like to be nice.”
“It’s refreshing.” I tip the rim of my bottle flirtatiously against my lips as the opening scene begins.
“Kayla,” Reese says my name surprisingly earnest.
“Yeah?” I turn my head, giving him my full attention.
“I just want to say thank you. I know I was kind of a cranky ass the last few months.”
“Cranky ass is putting it mildly. I was beginning to think it was your core personality trait.”
Reese’s face contorts into this adorable, guilty look.
“Core? No. I was just angry and frustrated and pissed off at the whole world. I know I made things difficult. But what I didn’t tell you is that you made my miserable situation so much more bearable. So . . . thank you.”
I don’t know what to say. His candid confession leaves me speechless.
“You’re welcome.” I find myself spiraling into his sincere gaze. That shocking proclamation suddenly sheds an entirely new light on the man sitting next to me. A light I find myself liking a little too much.
In the tingling moment, every boundary I’ve laid down instantaneously disappears. Instinctively, I lean into Reese, our faces so close I can smell the tang of beer on his breath. We linger inches apart, me ready to break through every barrier as my pulse races and desire sails. One death-defying inch closer, and our lips will meet. Connect. God, please, fuse. I’m tired of denying myself and tired of denying him. I know I said I couldn’t choose, so I take this as a sign the universe is controlling the reins. Placing me here, now, with Reese and eradicated reservations.
I command all my courage, but just as I close in, Reese turns his head, denying me. It feels like I was just sucker punched. The stink of rejection bloodying my lips.
What the fuck just happened? Reese has been trying to sleep with me for months, and when I finally give him the green light, he stalls out? It makes me question every flirtatious second and heated chase. Wounded, I try to retreat like a dog with its tail between its legs moving to the other side of the couch. But Reese deters me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He restrains me tightly.
“I’m taking the hint.”
“That wasn’t a hint. I was just . . .” His sentence stalls; the look in his eyes conflicted, yet rapturous.
“Just what?” I push.
“Just fucking nothing.” He crushes his mouth against mine. The sexual tension explodes, inflaming the entire room and my raging want. My need, my borderline fixation. The kiss is aggressive and raw and takes no prisoners. I crawl on top of him, and in a flash, we’re both breathing heavily and pawing all over each other.Touch me, touch me, don’t ever stop fucking touching me,is all I can think as he squeezes my breasts and rolls my nipples.
When we’re finally forced to break for air, I blink down at Reese utterly stricken. We spun a web, and we’re about to get tangled.
“Put your mouth on me.” Reese repeats the words he said in his hospital room, but this time, he makes it perfectly clear exactly where he wants it, sliding his shorts down to free his cock. I inwardly sputter from the length and girth of the erection aimed right at me. Damn.
“Don’t make me fucking wait, Kayla.” Reese pumps his shaft readily, impatiently.
I lick my lips, taking over his hand motions. As soon as I touch him, he expels a tortured moan, closing his eyes and dipping his head back.
“Finally.” He jerks his hips as I bring my mouth closer to his engorged head and then swallow it.
“Oh fuck.” He twitches, thrusting his cock deeper down my throat. I work him over as he knots his fingers in my hair and pulls every time a spike of pleasure rocks through his body.
“Tell me you’re on the fucking pill.” He thrusts again, harder this time, his grunts erratic. I nod my head and moan zealously as the tip of his cock repeatedly massages the back of my throat.
