Page 22 of Same Rogue
She pulled the green tank top over her head and settled it onto her torso. “Can you hand me that dark pair of shorts in there?” she asked.
“No,” Bridger said in an easy tone.
She couldn’t help her smile. Such a man. Of course he would want her getting ready with her ass cheeks hanging out.
“You sure you want to unpair with me?” she teased.
“No,” he said.
She frowned and jerked her attention to him. He wasn’t smiling or offering a punch line.
“It’s hard to get excited about signing that paperwork while I’m looking at your perfect ass.”
She snorted and made her way out to her suitcase and got her shorts herself. “Here. This will help.” She pulled them on and zipped them up.
Bridger leaned back in the chair, one long, powerful leg outstretched. He had an elbow resting on the table and a finger hooked in front of his masculine lips. His eyes sparked with intensity.
That man had a way of drawing her body to him.
Slowly, she padded over to him and stood right in front of Bridger, lifted her chin higher into the air, and peeled off her tank top.
Why was she the way she was? He had treated her so poorly last night.
His eyes dragged down her curves and back up. “Why would you let me touch you after last night?”
“Lack of self-preservation.”
“Lie. Try again.”
“I can put my shirt back on.” Kit moved to pull the tank top back on, but he yanked it out of her hand and threw it onto the bed beside the papers that would end any connection between them.
“No,” he rumbled low. “Why?”
“Because the way you make me feel about myself when we are both lost in each other outweighs how you make me feel when you leave me cold.”
He sat there still for a three-count, then leaned forward and pulled her by the hips toward her. Even sitting down, he was nearly eye level with her. She thought he would ravage her, but instead, he rested his forehead between her breasts and exhaled slowly.
His grip on her waist tightened.
This wasn’t the game. It wasn’t the rough fuck she had been aiming for. This wasn’t the fast collision she hoped would stick in his mind for time to come while he was here living his life without her. This was something deeper. Something scarier.
Heart pounding against her chest, she lifted her hands and ran her nails against his scalp. He uttered a little moan and relaxed against her more. He massaged her hips with his thumbs, then wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. She ran her hands through his hair again, and again.
It went on for a couple minutes before he eased back just enough to remove his shirt, and he immediately leaned against her again and wrapped her all up. She slid her hands to his muscular back and ran her nails lightly down it. Goosefleshraised on his skin where she touched it. Oh, he was a man who deeply enjoyed touch.
How tragic it was that he had lived without it for so long.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, him massaging little circles with his thumbs, and her scratching and massaging his back and head, but her body relaxed completely, and a feeling of drunkenness took her.
She swayed and he stood, lifting her with him. He took her to the bed and laid her down. He peeled her panties from her thighs and kicked out of his jeans, and he didn’t say a word as he slid into her. She was ready for him, wet already just from exploring his body. He drove deep and rested his lips on the side of her neck. He intertwined their hands and pushed them above her head, holding her hands so firmly in his. The pace he set was excruciatingly slow. It was the perfect torture as he built the pressure in her middle.
It was a slow drive inside of her, holding for two seconds, and then easing back. Hold two seconds and drive slowly again.
Her breath shook, and she clung to his hands as he consumed her body. The weight of him on top of her was perfect. The powerful movement of his hips was everything.
“I don’t want it to end,” she said on a breath. “You’ll leave.”
He didn’t pause or make her pay for her admission. He eased back and his lips were right there. He stared into her eyes as he drove into her again, slow, so slow.
