Page 47 of Total Abandon

“I think we can both agree the price is really your pride, mi fuego.” Fire and ice. I didn’t think it possible for someone to be both simultaneously. But here she is, freezing me out and setting me aflame all at once. It’s maddening. Infuriating. And turns me on like crazy. She tips her head to the side, contemplating me like I’m a math problem she can’t solve. My muscles lock when she leans in, her lips parting as they hover just an inch from my mouth.

Every instinct I have hammers at me to close the gap, but she’s drunk and I can’t take advantage of that. “Chloe,” I warn quietly, our eyes chained.

Her glassy stare tumbles down to my lips again, a fraction of a second before she leans the rest of the way in and kisses me. Primal need kicks in and my arms snake around her waist of their own accord. I kiss her back, forcing her to open up to me as I slip my tongue in to stroke hers. Fire licks at my skin, every cell in my body vibrating at a low hum as the taste and feel of her envelop me.

A soft, throaty moan escapes her and my cock strains painfully at my zipper. The faint tang of tequila is enough to remind me why I shouldn’t be doing this. Moving my hands to grip her shoulders, I pull her gently away. The sight of her hovering next to me, her lips wet from my tongue, her ragged breath making her full chest heave, burning eyes smoldering with dark desire, is almost enough to break me. I want to crack my chest open and lay my heart down at her feet.

“Chloe, you’re drunk,” I growl, distracted by the brief flash of her pink tongue darting across her lower lip. Jesus Christ, is she trying to kill me? Before I can register what she’s doing, she’s hiked her dress up to her hips and slipped onto my lap, straddling me. I’m not sure if she’s cast some sort of spell over me, or if it’s the fact that all my blood has rushed south, leaving very little for my brain, but I freeze, mesmerized by the sight of her.

She curls her fingers into the hair at the back of my head, leaning in to slide her nose up mine. “You want me to beg for you, Zeke?” she whispers, her eyes dancing with heat.

I groan, my hands finding their way to her hips and gripping her there. My brain has emptied of all thought that doesn’t include the heat of her tight little body pressed to mine, or the sweetness of her breath against my mouth.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” she breathes, rolling her hips forward so her core rubs along the hard line of my erection in my pants. Heat snaps at the base of my spine, sending a rush of molten need through me. “Thinking what it would be like if you fucked me.” She rolls her hips again and tips her head back, letting out the most delicious little whimper.

“My fucking god, Chloe.” My gaze drops to where our bodies connect, almost busting then and there in my pants like a teenage boy when I see a lacy red thong barely covering anything. It’s ridden up over her pussy, baring the edges of her pretty lips to me. I know how good she looks too, it’s haunted me since that day at her parents' house. Perfect, pink, and wet. I want to pull the flimsy fabric to one side and stuff her full of my cock until she’s bucking and writhing on top of me.

“I can’t,” I grit out through teeth clenched so tight they will surely crack, trying desperately to remember why.

She tips her head back down, drawing my attention away from her center. Another roll of her hips has my fingers digging into her ass and I’m pretty sure I’m leaking pre-cum in my pants. A devilish smirk lifts her full lips, and she leans down, her fiery hair veiling my face as her hot breath skates my ear.

“Please,”she whispers, right before her teeth bite down on my earlobe. Fuck it all to hell.

“Chloe, stop.” I snap my eyes shut briefly, pushing away every filthy thought barreling through my head right now and yanking her back by her upper arms. “I said we can’t.” We stay suspended like that for a moment, both our chests heaving. She swallows and I’m sure I see hurt flash in her cerulean eyes. Cursing myself to hell, I hold my tongue. Now is not the time to discuss it. When she’s sober, I’ll let her know just how much I want her. Until then, it’s safer this way.

“Fine, okay,” she mutters, her cheeks flaming as she scurries off my lap and sits as far away from me as she can. Readjusting myself in my pants with a wince, I fume silently over the next five minutes before we pull into the underground parking garage of my building. Times like this make me wish I was the asshole everyone thinks I am. Because if I didn’t have morals, I would be buried so deeply in her that we wouldn’t know where I ended and she began.

When the car stops, she wastes no time in jumping out. The encounter seems to have sobered her slightly as she walks confidently across the lot and into the elevator. My eyes are trained firmly to the inside of the doors the whole ride up, trying to ignore the way my heart still hammers in my chest and need pulses through my veins. The moment the doors hiss open to reveal the dark penthouse, she’s out of the elevator and headed for the stairs. I follow slowly, allowing her to race ahead. The snick of her bedroom door snapping shut sounds a moment before I round the corner. Hesitating for a heartbeat outside the handle, I force my leaden feet to move.

I’ve got my fist around my cock the moment my bedroom door shuts behind me, and I don’t even make it three steps before I’m coming in my hand, every muscle in my body tight with frustration and longing.

Chapter 21

Tilly:How was your night?

Chloe:Tequila is not my friend.

Tilly:That bad?

Chloe:Well, I nearly got arrested and then mauled Zeke in the back of the car. So, you tell me?

Tilly:Definitely a good night.

Chloe:Oh, did I forget to mention? He turned me down.

Tilly:That's embarrassing for you.

Chloe:Thank you.

CHLOE

Tell me why I ever got a cat, because right now, with PG yowling outside my bedroom door, I can’t remember. I tug the covers up over my head and groan, the heavy pulse at my temple amplifying. A slew of images rushes forward: me swinging a chair at the greasy dude in the club, me arguing with police officers, and then of course, me throwing myself at Zeke and being rejected. Fuck! I had actuallypleaded. A muffled click of a door and slide of carpet reaches me, and I freeze, listening. There is a definite deep rumble of a male voice outside before my bedroom door opens.

“I’m going to donate this thing to Goodwill if it doesn’t—” I peek over the soft, white comforter through bleary eyes as the deep voice cuts off. My stomach flips when I see Zeke standing in the doorway, scowling and wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. His onyx hair is deliciously ruffled, like he’s just rolled out of bed, and judging from the early morning light filtering in through the blinds, this is highly likely. “Why is Diego in your bed?”

Blinking twice, I tear my eyes away from his tawny, tattooed chest. Apparently, I was invaded in the night. Reaching across, I prod gently at his pudgy cheek.

“Hey kid,” I rasp, wincing as I feel how dry my throat is. His long, dark lashes flutter, and he stirs, rubbing his face into the pillow so adorably my heart melts. “I told you that you were going to get caught if you kept sneaking in here,” I say when he turns big, sleepy brown eyes on me and blinks lazily.