Page 87 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“No lovey-dovey.”
“You’re not the lovey-dovey type.”
He pulls gently on my earlobe, the heat of his mouth only intensifying the sensation as the ache intensifies between my thighs.
“No overnights.”
His hand slides beneath my shirt and begins working on the clasp of my bra as his lips close over the peak of my nipple through the fabric.
“Not unless we’re doing this.”
Another step up.
“No dates. No dating. No semblance of dating.”
“You’re talking too much,” His words are punctuated with a nip before his lips find mine again and his fingers find the button on my shorts.
“Grant.” I step up to get away and stand my ground, but I know it’s for show. I’m too far gone, too lost in Lustville to push him away.
“Yes. No dates. Or dating. Or eating. Or talking. Or whatever you want so long as you shut your mouth unless it’s kissing me and put your hand on my dick because,
baby, I’m dying here.”
I lean back and meet his eyes. There’s humor there. And desperation.
My fingers find the button on his jeans, and he groans when I find purchase. After I tug the zipper down, I cup him and gently scrape my fingers outside and over the seam of denim, causing the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard to emit from deep in his throat.
“I know I’m forgetting something,” I say as my lips find the curve of his neck, and he climbs the final step.
“Your keys. You’re forgetting your keys,” he says through a laugh as I go to pull my hand away from his dick, but his fingers are on my wrist in a flash. “That’s not going anywhere, Em. Give me the keys, I’ll open it.”
In seconds, my keys are out of my purse and my door is open and we’re standing in the dark with my hand on his cock and my rules wedged securely between us.
“No talking about our pasts. No sleeping with other people—just for safety’s sake—”
“Woman, you could ask me to skydive and I’d say yes so long as I get to fuck you again. Shortly. Like in minutes.”
He must be dead serious.
I draw his shirt over his head and then pull mine off, my bra falling to the floor as I lean forward and suck one of his nipples.
“More like seconds.” His voice is strained and his hands grip tighter on my arms.
“This is such a mistake,” I groan as his hands slide into the waistband of my shorts and push them down.
“Mm-hmm,” he says against my lips. “You can call the first time a mistake. The second time, it’s called a decision. Make the goddamn decision, Em. Please. Before I die of desperation.”
I chuckle. “So dramatic.” I kiss him again and love how when I pull back, he leans forward to take more. It shows what I do to him. It shows he wants me. “No . . .” I can’t think of any more rules because his cock pulses against my hand, growing harder.
“What else can there possibly be?” he asks, exasperated as he shoves his own jeans down his hips so that his cock springs free into my hand.
“This,” I say before I drop to my knees and look up to him as I take the entire, rock-hard length of him in my mouth.
“I fucking love that rule.” He groans as his head falls back and his fingers sink into my hair, tightening when he hits the back of my throat.
The woman is incredible in every fucking sense of the word.
She eyes me from where she stands in the kitchen—if I can call it that since it’s little more than a hot plate, a mini fridge, a toaster oven, and a Keurig. It doesn’t hurt that the only thing she’s wearing is a pair of boy shorts.
