Blindsided (27 page)

I lift her onto the side of the pool, get out, and pull her over to one of the lounge chairs. I push her down, and she looks up at me, her body soft beneath me, her bare breasts heaving with her frantic breaths, her eyes heavy and lidded.

She looks up at me, temptation embodied, sin and innocence…pleasure and torture in one fucking painfully beautiful package.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” I whisper, leaning down over her. I cup her breast and flick my thumb across her nipple. “I’m not sure I’ve ever told you that.”

“No, you…” she trails off when I close my lips around her other nipple and suck gently. “Haven’t.”

“Well, you are.” I pepper kisses up her neck. “You’re beautiful, and you’re sexy, and you’re gorgeous.”

“Had to get ‘sexy’ in there, didn’t you?”

I smile against her mouth and trail my fingers down her flat stomach. “Yep.”

My fingers disappear inside her bottoms and rub along her wet pussy. She half gasps, half whimpers, and I slide two fingers inside her. She instantly tightens her muscles around me and lifts her hips toward me, a silent plea for more.

She clutches at the back of my neck as I move my fingers inside her. Her breath is hot on my skin as I kiss down her neck, and the tiny whimpers she’s making are driving me fucking insane. I’d give anything to tear off those bottoms and replace my fingers with my cock, ready to tip her over the edge and back again. I want to fuck her so badly that it hurts, and the want only grows with each whimper that gets louder.

“And you’re so close to perfection that it scares me,” I murmur in her ear, flicking her clit with my thumb. “And I want to taste you. All of you. Every last inch of this gorgeous body needs my lips on it, Leah. Can you imagine that, babe? Can you imagine my lips and my tongue where my hand is right now? ‘Cause I can, and I bet you taste fucking incredible.”

She squeezes my fingers hard, her breath harsh and heavy, and a moan leaves her mouth when I push my fingers inside her deeper. She’s so close to the edge. So fucking close…

I give her clit one last caress and take my hand from her. “And when you’re ready to feel that, just say the word.”

Her eyes snap open and follow me as I casually stroll back into the house. I’m a bastard. A real bastard. But she shouldn’t give if she can’t take it. Right now, I imagine she feels a lot like how I’ve felt since my lips first touched hers.

“You fucking asshole, Corey Jackson!”

I smirk. And that right there is how you even the playing field.

O
h hell fucking no.

Hell. Fucking. No.

This jackass is not leaving me lying by his pool, naked, on the brink of an orgasm he has no intention of finishing. I want him so badly that I’m aching. My lips are aching to kiss him, my fingers are aching to touch him, and my body is aching to be wrapped up with his.
I hate him for it.
I’ve never felt this way. I know what he can he do to me and I want it.

Every part of my body wants to feel that release. I want the tingles across my skin where he touches me and the shiver down my spine when he kisses the back of my neck. I want my muscles to tighten when he runs his fingers across the tops of my thighs.

More. I want more, because I want more of him. I want to see the look in his eyes when
I
kiss
his
neck, when I run my hands across his stomach to the waistband of his pants and slip my fingers inside it. I want to know how his eyes look when I curl my fingers around his hardened cock, and I want to hear the breath escape his mouth when I wrap my lips around it.

Because I have never, ever wanted someone the way I do Corey. Equally, I’ve never had someone want me as much as he does. I’ve never had someone push me and push me until I’ve felt like I want to break, but he does that. He makes me want to break every single one of my own rules, and I will.

I never thought it would come to this. I never imagined my body would take over my mind where he’s concerned, but it has—and rather spectacularly. Emotions haven’t even really factored into the crazy and scary relationship we have.

It’s all based on pure, carnal need.

I need to feel his body in a way so intense and raw that it scares me. And now?

We talked my way—and he’s about to find out that I’m more than skilled at talking
his
way.

I run after him into the house. Hearing his footsteps on the stairs, I dart through the house and up them. I don’t care that I’ve never been upstairs. The running shower water directs me to exactly where I need to be—his bedroom.

I burst through into the en suite in time to see him standing in front of the shower. Naked. All packed, tight, carved, and sculpted muscle, remaining drops of water from the pool running down his body to where his cock is standing to attention. It’s long and large and perfect, veins drawing wiggled patterns down his shaft.

My clit throbs as if to remind me why I’m up here.

“You!” I storm forward and wrench his hand from the shower door. Then I slam it shut and turn. “Are a fucking asshole.”

Corey smirks. “Welcome to how I’ve felt since I first looked at you.”

“Good. Because you’re about to carry me to your room and finish what you just started!”

His smirk drops. His eyes darken, and when he steps forward, his cock so close to brushing my lower stomach, a thrill runs through my body. “Leah Veronica, are you asking me to fuck you?”

“I don’t ask, beg, or plead,” I breathe. “I’m telling you to fuck me. And mark my words, Corey Jackson. I won’t fucking do it again.”

He opens his mouth, but it isn’t to answer. He closes it over mine—harshly, almost—and grips my hips. Our bodies slam together, his cock pressing up against my stomach, his hands running all over my back and my ass.

And fuck. All I can focus on is the demanding movements of his lips against my own, the forceful way they caress mine, taking everything I have. I don’t even know how this feels, how I’m supposed to explain it. I’m supposed to hate this, to not want it, but all I can think about is keeping him right here against me so I can keep feeling the jelly in my knees and the begging clenching of my pussy. I want to keep on feeling the tingles down my spine, the thump of my heart, the heat swamping my body, and the desperation clinging to him in my fingertips.

Corey pulls me back through to the bedroom, his grip never easing, his kiss just as forceful. Then we fall, together, onto the bed, a mass of tangled limbs, wet hair, and pure, unbridled wanting.

Our skin is slick against each other’s with water, but that barely matters with the heat rushing down in my body.

I’m hyperaware everywhere he’s touching me. His lips are on fire against mine and his fingers splayed on my back send sparks to places of me I didn’t know could feel a kiss.

And he kisses me this way, long and hard, probing and heated. And he cups my breasts, teases my nipples. And his cock rubs against my pussy lips, teasing my cli, until there isn’t any air left in my body and all that’s in my head is his name.

Until all that’s on my lips is his name, because I don’t beg, but… “Corey, condom.”

He leaves me with a bite to my bottom lip and reaches over to the drawer in the nightstand. After fumbling for a few seconds, he pulls out a foil square and tears it open. I look down as he pulls the condom out and rolls it over his cock in a swift motion.

“Last chance,” he murmurs, opening my legs and taking my hands in his.

“Shut up and fuck me,” I reply, pushing my hips up. I’m done fucking around.

His answer is his cock easily and quickly pushing into my wetness. I gasp, the filling and stretching sensation stronger than I expected, but oh, God, good, too. So fucking good.

He rocks his hips against me, each thrust pushing deeper and deeper, getting quicker and quicker. Corey’s lips take mine and he releases my hands, his fingers winding into my hair. I steal a breath between each kiss, my whole body burning.

Heat and desire—they swamp me, swamp us. His strokes are deep and easy, and each one is as intense. All there is is this—us, heavy breathing, low moans, and sweaty skin. All there is are my fingers gripping his back, his tangled in my hair. Our mouths battling, our breath mingling, our bodies fusing together.

“Fuck,” Corey groans against me.

I open my legs for him to fuck me deeper, and he does, but harder, too. He fucks me harder and faster and deeper until there’s nothing I can do but take it, live it, breathe it. I’m defenseless as his rough movements take me closer to the edge of the pleasure cliff coiling in my lower stomach.

I’m defenseless as, with one powerful thrust, he pushes me.

I spiral up, down, and around as he ignites the fire inside me and it explodes, rushing through my veins, forcing its way through my spasming muscles until I don’t know left from right, reality from a dream, hot from cold.

Only one thing breaks through, and that’s the sound of him saying my name in a long, tortured groan as he finds his release with mine.

“You probably shouldn’t be sitting with your legs against the back of my sofa when you’re not wearing panties.”

I tug Corey’s T-shirt down and catch the material between my thighs, covering myself. “Better?” I chew on a piece of crispy chili beef.

“No.” He leans his head back and covers his eyes with his forearm.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

“Babe, it’s worse than bad.” He drops his arm and turns his face toward me. “I know how fuckin’ incredible you feel.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, I don’t have panties. And my bikini bottoms are wet.”

“I can put them in the dryer.” He moves.

I laugh. “And I still have no clothes for tomorrow.”

“Wear the ones you wore today and I’ll take you home in the morning to change and stuff.”

“Or…” I swing my legs around and sit up. “You could go to my house now and get me some clothes.”

Corey blinks at me like I just asked him to recite Shakespeare in Mandarin Chinese. “No.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m not going to your house, where your mom and aunt will ask me suggestive questions and watch me with a knowing grin.”

“Fine.” I grab my phone from the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Hey, Mom,” I say, looking at Corey. “Can you do me a favor and pack me a bag for tonight? Corey will come pick it up.”