Page 100 of Buckin' Around

I can’t breathe.

Not knowing whether it’s because of his need for this, for me. Or for the fact we don’t bring equal emotions to this little floor rendezvous.

Spencer seems to be all in.

Me . . . I’m awash with need for him.

But it’s just lust.

It has to be.

He works my mouth over as my hands wander through his hair. I send them lower, desperate to feel every angle of his toned body, driven by the need to know him... to be as close as possible.

His kiss breaks away, trailing down my neck, nipping and dusting open-mouthed hot, wet kisses to my pulse points before his lips graze the swell of my breasts.

Oh, holy fecking hell, Spencer.

If this is how you love me, Spencer Lockwood... Take itback.

Before I fall too hard. Too deep.

And have to break both our hearts when I eventually go home.

My hands curl around the opening of his shirt.

“Baby, I need to taste these sweet hard peaks. I need you in my mouth. I need my mouth on every fucking inch of you, Riles.”

“Oh god,” I cry softly.

“Finally, she gets it,” Spencer says with an errant chuckle.

I tighten my grip on his shirt and tug it upward.

“Yours goes next,” Spencer rasps as I carefully guide his shirt from his bad arm first, then peel it from his body, tossing it to the floor.

The man is stunning.

Every hard, muscled inch of him is perfection.

Those blue eyes that usually hold playfulness are darkening by the second.

They’re intoxicating.

They’r—

Spencer nods to my tank top.

My skin is engulfed in flames, and if I don’t get his touch soon...

I grip the hem of the tank and peel it up and off, slowly.

His breathing shallows.

I wriggle on his lap for good measure.

His throat bobs as he leans in, and I press a finger to his lips and shake my head.

“Wait, Spence.”