Authors: Erin McCarthy

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

Slow Ride (24 page)

BOOK: Slow Ride

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He sucked in a breath when she nipped him. “Oh, someone’s feeling frisky.”

Looking down into his brown eyes, she forgot her headache, forgot her sore muscles, and was only aware of him and the deep, needy ache he created between her legs. Rocking her hips onto his erection, she just gave him a wicked smile. “I’m sopping wet,” she told him. “You know what that means.”

His finger snaked down between their bodies and slipped inside her panties and into her without preamble. Tuesday gasped, rolling her head back.

“Well, well, so you are . . . tell me what that means, sweetheart.” He hooked his index finger inside her, hitting all her pleasure spots perfectly.

She forgot to answer him for a second, just enjoying the contact, moving her hips slowly and sensually so that her body moved with his finger. It was a slow tease . . . it seemed satisfying at first, then it wasn’t enough to fill her, even when she started rocking faster, pumping with a quick, hard rhythm.

“It means you need to fuck me,” she said, breathless, hair a wild tangle around her face, her body heating up from pleasure, her face resting on his shoulder.

Diesel tugged her hair hard enough that it both aroused her and forced her back off of him. That little sting wasn’t painful so much as it was exciting and she said, “What?”

His eyes were dark with desire, his hand still fisted into the back of her hair. “I think in this position
you
need to fuck
me
. So get to it.”

It should have pissed her off, his roughness, his dominating words in bed. It just turned her on even more. She was so wet that when he pulled his finger out of her, she felt the trail of her own arousal across her thigh. When another tug of her hair had her up in a sitting position, Tuesday yanked her T-shirt off with frantic pulls. She just wanted to be naked and be on him, slamming their bodies together.

“That’s it,” he told her. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he lifted them both up slightly off the bed so he could dispense with his boxers.

There was no time to worry about her panties. They were shoved to the side from his attentions and that was good enough for her. Tuesday took his erection into her hand, gave it a few greedy strokes, then aligned herself with the tip of his penis. When she sank down onto him, they both moaned.

He felt so right inside her, just the perfect fit. Tuesday started moving her hips, loving the way he looked right at her, eyes locked with hers, his hands on her waist, gripping hard. Putting her hands in her hair to get it back off her face, she closed her eyes briefly just to concentrate on that amazing connection, that slide of her over him, his erection stretching her deliciously. She was definitely going to come.

Most men she’d known would have taken over control by this point, forcing the rhythm themselves, but Diesel moved with her, let her set the pace, let her be the one driving down onto him. Ironic that the most alpha male in bed was enjoying letting her ride him like a cowgirl. But maybe he knew that ultimately he was still in control because she was so aroused, she wouldn’t argue with anything he wanted to do.

Her movements were getting frantic, her moans louder, and she felt the orgasm rush over her in an explosive wave, a hot, desperate all consuming pleasure. Not changing her pace at all, she drew it out, refusing to close her eyes. Instead she watched Diesel, loving the way his moans had joined hers, the way he was clearly as hot for her as she was for him. She knew the moment he was going to have his own orgasm. She could feel it inside her body, the tensing of his cock, could see it in his expression, hear it in his voice, as everything paused just for a split second before he exploded inside her.

Damn, there was nothing better than being on top and knowing she had made her man come. Her. She had done that, to both of them.

When the last shudders subsided, Diesel relaxed back onto the pillow. “Damn, sweetheart. Just damn.”

Tuesday gave a little laugh and leaned down and gave him a smacking kiss, their bodies still pleasantly and warmly joined.

CHAPTER
TEN

TUESDAY
collapsed next to Diesel, sighing. “That’s the best cure for a hangover I’ve ever tried.”

Diesel hadn’t had a drop to drink the night before and he was feeling pretty damn cured himself. “I’m glad it worked for you.”

He had to admit, he’d spent a lot of the night tossing and turning, wondering what exactly his feelings for Tuesday were. Wondering if he should be concerned about her drinking. Wondering how willing he was to put himself out there. He’d spent the last two years basically alone because he didn’t want anyone’s pity. It was difficult to be known as the face of tragedy instead of just a man.

But lying on her bed, the sun warming the room up already, Tuesday’s cheeks pink from the exertion of riding him, his body spent and satisfied, he didn’t care. None of it mattered. He wanted to see where this was going. If it crashed and burned, then so be it.

Hell, it probably would. Didn’t everything eventually?

In the meantime, though, he could enjoy it. He was going to enjoy the hell out of it, if the last twenty minutes had been any indication.

She grinned at him, her leg still sprawled over his, looking completely relaxed. “Oh, I think it worked for you, too.”

“I never said it didn’t.”

“Hold back on the enthusiasm there, buddy.”

The good thing was, she didn’t look annoyed. Diesel knew he was too emotionally reserved for some women—hell, most women—but Tuesday was confident enough that it never seemed to raise insecurities in her the way it did other women. He didn’t mean to be remote, it just didn’t feel natural to him to gush about his feelings. It made him feel stupid and vulnerable. He said things in his own way, on his own terms, and he stood by the concept of actions speaking louder than words.

“I think I showed you just how enthusiastic I can be.”

She sighed, a satisfied smile on her face. “Indeed.”

He loved her smile, that smirk that frequently crossed her lips. It stunned him a little to look at her and realize just how beautiful he thought she was . . . when she had been moving over him, her head thrown back, he had been in awe of how stunning she had looked.

It was starting to occur to him that he was really falling for her. The question was, how did she really feel about him?

He guessed there was only one way to figure it out. “So do you have plans for today?”

She yawned. “I should work a little but other than that, no.”

“You want to do something?”

There was no hesitation. “Sure. Like what?”

That was a good question. “I should go home and get Wilma and let her out. Do you want to go to the dog park? Or we could take her down the trails by the lake.”

“I vote dog park. I’m feeling okay, but I’m not sure I’m up for tromping around the woods today. Let’s save that for a day when I haven’t consumed my weight in wine the night before.”

Good point. He didn’t want to put her through the paces when he knew how lousy the day after drinking could be. “No problem.”

“Do you want to shower at your place so we don’t have poor Wilma crossing her legs any longer than she has to?”

There it was again, that tug on his heart. Damn, she killed him when she showed care for his dog. “That would be great.” Diesel sat up and stretched. “The mutt will appreciate it.”

Having pulled her panties into some semblance of order, Tuesday came around his side of the bed and started rooting around in her dresser. He was momentarily distracted from his purpose of pulling his jeans back on. Her butt was perilously close to his face and he wanted to suck the spot where her waist dipped in.

“I need to give you your clothes back that I borrowed.”

“Huh?” Diesel had a hard time focusing on her words, mesmerized by the lengthy expanse of ivory skin on her back, her shoulder blades moving gracefully as she dug through a drawer. He felt an erection stirring to life.

“Are you even listening to me?” Tuesday turned around. Her exasperation disappeared when she saw his dick, sail fully raised. “Oh, my.” Tuesday licked her lips, her mouth sliding open.

For a split second he thought she was going to lean over and take him into her mouth. The thought made him throb. But she backed up against her dresser, like she needed distance from temptation.

“No, we need to let Wilma out.”

He knew she was right, but he was tempted to risk a puddle on the floor for five more minutes. Not that he would actually let her suck him. Why waste time on that when he could be deep inside her? Just thinking about the way it felt to have her hot, moist body snug around him had him reaching for her.

But then the mood was ruined when she put a hand to her chest and said, “Look at your knee, oh, my God.”

Nothing like pity to kill an erection. Fighting the urge to wince, he said, “Pretty, huh?”

The wreck had shattered his kneecap. The part he had now was plastic, and he’d been fighting the resulting scar tissue around it. So he’d had both an initial surgery and two subsequent ones, leaving him a network of red, angry scars, and a significant dip in one spot where the tissue had been removed.

Tuesday seemed to recover from her initial shock and tempered her expression. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It just looks . . . angry.”

That was a very accurate description of it. “I imagine it is a little pissed about being crushed. I’ve apologized to it, but it still seems inclined to be annoyed.”

“Want me to tell it to calm down?” She looked ready to beat the crap out of his knee. Considering she was standing there in just a pair of panties and there was nothing she could do about his injury, her indignation was funny as hell.

Diesel laughed. “Uh, sweetheart, no offense, but I don’t think you’re the best person to calm anyone or anything down.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“No. But what you should be doing is forgetting about my knee and putting a freaking shirt on before I bite your nipple.” Really, how much was he expected to resist? Her back was bad enough, but her breasts, nipples jutting out at him, was really damn challenging.

“You don’t want to do that.”

Hah. “Oh, yes, I do.”

With a speed that defied her hangover she moved away from him, a bra dangling in her hand. “You can bite me later.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“As long as you buy me some coffee in the next ten minutes, you can do whatever you want.”

Diesel grinned. “Oh, yeah? Anything?”

“Within reason,” she amended, hooking her bra.

“That’s subject to interpretation.” Something he was going to have a lot of fun with later. But he let her off the hook for now and got dressed. “Alright, let’s roll, sexy.”

She was wearing shorts and a tank top. Whereas most women would have been content to leave it at that, Tuesday took the time to add bracelets and a necklace, then find matching sandals. There was something very finished and polished about her all the time, even when she was coming off a night of sucking down wine. He wondered if it was a little bit like armor, like her way of showing she was in control.

Or hell, maybe she just liked jewelry.

Diesel did a mental eye roll. He needed to lay off the talk shows.

She caught him off guard when she was ready to leave the bedroom and she turned to him and said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stared at her blankly, distracted by thoughts of wanting to kiss the back of her long, smooth neck. “Talk about what?”

“Your accident. Your injuries. I know I can be the queen of snark, but I am actually a really good listener.” Her expression was full of compassion.

He appreciated it at the same time he resented it. “Thank you, but no, I don’t want to talk about it.” He had no intention of laying all out his failures and weaknesses in front of her. She already knew he was a gimp, he didn’t need to talk about it.

She said, “Okay, I understand. But I’m here if you want a friend.”

On impulse, Diesel reached out and took her hand as they walked through her apartment.

It felt good, damn good.

They went through the drive-thru and ordered Tuesday a giant coffee and a six-pack of doughnuts. “You really going to eat all those?” he asked her with a dubious glance at the box sitting in her lap after they pulled away.

“Not at one time. But yes, I’m going to eat all of them. And if you have a problem with that, you can suck it.”

He laughed. That was his girl.

His girl?

The thought should have made him freeze in terror, his nuts drawing up into his body in shock and horror.

But instead, he thought he kinda liked the sound of it.

Him and Tuesday.

Who’d have thought?

“I don’t have a problem with it. I was just debating how badly you’d hurt me if I stole one.”

BOOK: Slow Ride

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