Page 49 of Addicted

I was finally going to be able to hug him and make sure he was alright. And that thought, that anticipation, started to override everything else. The anger. The frustration. The confusion about what the fuck I was doing with Stone.

None of it mattered as much as seeing Ish. I needed to see my brother. I needed to know he was safe.

By the time I heard Stone’s car pull up outside, I’d calmed down enough to function. I was sitting on the couch watching the new season ofLove is Blindon Netflix, my eyes glued to the screen as some woman cried about her man not being emotionally available.

I heard the front door open and close, then Stone’s heavy footsteps in the hallway. But I didn’t look up. I kept my eyes on the TV, pretending to be completely absorbed in the drama unfolding on screen.

I was still irritated with his ass, and I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of my attention. Plus, if I looked at him, I’d be forced to acknowledge how fine he was, and I didn’t want to think about that shit when I was upset.

I could feel his eyes on me. That intense, unblinking stare that always made my skin prickle with awareness, but I ignored it and kept my focus on the TV.

After a long moment, I heard him move. His footsteps came closer, and then the couch dipped as he sat down right next to me.

Too close.

I kissed my teeth and scooted away from him, putting distance between us.

Stone chuckled. It was a dark, low sound that sent a shiver down my spine. Then his hand shot out and grabbed my waist, yanking me back toward him. I gasped as he pulled me into his lap, forcing me to straddle him.

“Stone—”

“Look at me,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I didn’t want to, but my eyes betrayed me, lifting to meet his. And there it was.

That look. The one I’d been noticing more and more lately. Obsession. Hunger. Addiction. Like I was a drug he couldn’t quit.

His dark eyes bore into mine, and I felt my resolve crumbling.

“I’m still mad at you,” I said, my voice weaker than I wanted it to be.

“I know,” he said. Then he kissed me.

And I folded.

Like a fuckin’ lawn chair.

I kissed him back immediately, my hands going to his shoulders, my body pressing against his. His lips were demanding, his tongue sliding into my mouth and tangling with mine. I moaned into the kiss, hatingmyself for how easily I gave in to him, but I couldn’t help it. This man had some kind of hold on me that I couldn’t explain.

Stone’s big hands gripped my ass through the thin material of my biker shorts, squeezing and kneading. The shorts were so thin I could feel the warmth of his palms, and it made my pussy purr. I was already getting wet, already ready for him.

Stone pulled back from the kiss and stared into my eyes for a moment. Then his hands moved to the straps of my tank top, yanking them down along with the fabric until my breasts spilled out.

He didn’t waste time. His mouth went straight to my nipples, sucking and biting until I was arching into him, my head falling back.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

He switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, and I felt myself getting wetter by the second. He lifted me off his lap and laid me down on the couch, hovering over me.

His hands went to the waistband of my biker shorts, and he yanked them down along with my thong in one swift motion. I was completely exposed to him now, naked from the waist down. Stone’s eyes darkened as he looked at my pussy, and he licked his lips.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

I did.

He got down on his knees in front of the couch, tossing my legs over his shoulders, and then he buried his face between my thighs.

“Oh my God,” I moaned as his tongue made contact with my clit.