Page 41 of Point Blank

He chuckled. The sound was rough and throaty. “Yeah, I kind of gathered that.”

Despite his amusement, guilt made her chew her bottom lip. The mark on his face bothered her. He didn’t deserve her aggression. Well, maybe in that moment he had. But if it weren’t for him, she’d have zero help right now.

His hand caught the side of her neck and his eyes turned soft. Hazel hues melted into the green, sending a shiver of delight over her skin. She never tired of his touch. Whether he touched her once every ten years or once every ten minutes, he made her heart purr like a cat.

“Don’t make that face, babe.”

Shit. What face? Dear god, please tell me I didn’t summon my O face.

Before she could answer, he swept his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t care about a damn bruise or the fact that you hit me. I’m not leaving your side until this is over.”

Just like that, the protective ribbon that had kept her body clothed and her emotions intact broke. She let her body fall into his heat. One of his hands slid around her waist, the other kept its solid hold on her neck.

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. The deafening voice in her head that had been cautioning her to keep Milo at arm’s length became a whisper. She needed him. She needed a release. The stress and angst of the last day and a half were drawing on all her resources. A few minutes of bliss, that’s all she needed.

Milo’s eyes searched her face, as if memorizing every contour. His fingers flexed on her spine and she tilted up her chin. His lips came down but stopped an inch from meeting hers.

“I’m losing my sanity around you,” he said. His voice was strained, as if he’d had to force the admission. “I can barely think. You walk by and I want you. You speak and I hang on every word. Seeing you dressed is torture, and seeing you in that towel nearly killed me.” His fingers slid under her shirt, stopping on her ribcage. “I need?—”

“Shh,” she said, planting her fingers on his lips.

His gaze turned hot, branding her. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. His words stemmed from lust. Nothing more. Dammit, she lusted after him too. She couldn’t blame him. They didn’t have much time, but trying to think and work with her libido set to horny 24/7 was proving counterproductive.

She had to get him out of her system.

And fast.

She peeled her fingers from his mouth and rose on her tiptoes. His lips caught hers in a hot, demanding kiss. He pressed her back against the wall. She curled her toes and her spine drew up to its full height. His hand scooped the back of her neck and inched her head back, allowing him deeper access. His tongue invaded her senses, wet and knowing. He stroked inside her mouth, and a sharp mewl tore from her throat.

He pulled away and dropped his forehead to hers. Her panting mingled with his, and she slid her hands to his chest to ride the steady rhythm of his breath.

“I won’t be able to stop at kissing, Serena. I need you. All of you. If you can’t do this now, I understand, but we need to be on the same page.”

She closed her eyes and let his breath tickle her cheek. “I need you too.” She rested the back of her head against the wall. “I crave you every minute and it’s . . .” She swept her tongue over her lips to clear her head, but all it did was drag the faint hint of coffee that tainted his mouth across them. “Distracting. We need to clear the air . . . just once. But it has to be fast so we can get our fill and move on.”

He threw his head back, and a laugh rumbled against her hand.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s so funny?”

He lowered his face to hers. Some of the humor left his eyes, but the skin around them crinkled with amusement. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. You’re asking me to be fast? Don’t most women want the opposite?”

She grinned, pushed away from his hold, and tugged her shirt over her head. His smile fell away and his gaze dropped to her black-lace-covered breasts.

“God damn,” he hissed.

She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her yoga pants and wiggled them down her legs, stripping to her thong. Now wasn’t the time for modesty, or beating around the bush. This wasn’t a budding romance but the fulfilling of a need for practicality.

You’re so full of shit.

She forced her inner voice away.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Milo. I haven’t had sex in a while. I don’t care how long you can last, not right now.” She stepped out of her pants and latched onto his body again. She brought her hand to the waistband of his pants, dragging her fingertips over the taut flesh of his abdomen.

A vein throbbed at Milo’s temple, and she framed her body to his. His cheekbones were stained red. He didn’t move. His aroused state made her smile, and her cheeks warmed. She unsnapped his jeans, slid down his zipper, and freed his dick from his briefs.

His hot, thick cock pulsed against her palm. She stroked her fingers up and down the length of him and her mouth went dry. He would stretch her. She tightened her hold on him, dragging in a slow, steady motion. She kept her eyes locked on his face, watching his lids lower with desire.

He reached for her, and his hands trailed around her hips, over her bare ass cheeks, and to the skin at the backs of her thighs. In one swift movement he lifted her. She swung her legs around his waist as if she’d done it a thousand times.