Page 11 of Claimed By Lock

She sees me and her expression shifts. Not nerves. Hungrier than that.

I slide into the booth across from her. The air between us is thick, charged.

"You came," she says.

"You asked."

She flags down the bartender, orders me a whiskey without asking. Slides it across the table when it arrives.

"For what you did," she says. "With Colt."

"You don't owe me anything."

"I know. The drink was just an excuse." She takes a sip of her own, watching me over the rim. "I keep telling myself all the reasons this is a bad idea. And none of them matter when I'm lying in bed at night, thinking about that kiss."

Fuck.

She holds my gaze for a long moment. Then she stands, drops some bills on the table, and holds out her hand.

"My apartment's a block away. Come with me."

I don't hesitate.

Her place is small. One bedroom, tidy. I barely register any of it.

The door barely closes before she's kissing me — hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me down to her.

I let her have that moment. One second. Two.

Then I take over.

I spin her around, press her back against the door, and kiss her the way I've been wanting to for three days. Deep. Demanding. My hands grip her hips, holding her in place, and she moans into my mouth.

"Lock—"

"I've been thinking about this," I tell her, my lips trailing down her jaw. Her neck. "Couldn't stop."

"Yeah?" Her voice is breathless. Her fingers scramble at my shirt.

"Thinking about touching you." I yank her shirt over her head and she gasps. "Thinking about what sounds you'd make." I unclasp her bra, let it fall, and cup her breasts in my hands. "Whether you'd be as desperate for me as I am for you."

"Yes." She arches into my touch. "God, yes."

"Good." I pinch her nipple and she whimpers. "Because I'm done waiting."

After that, it's a blur.

Clothes coming off in a tangle — my cut hitting the floor, her hands shoving my jeans down while I'm kicking off my boots. We're stumbling toward the bed, mouths barely separating, and I'm so hard it's painful. Three days of wanting her. Three days of replaying that kiss. And now she's here, warm and real and pulling me down on top of her.

I settle between her thighs and push into her and we both groan.

She's tight and hot and perfect and I know — Iknow— this isn't going to last. Three days of buildup and the feel of her around me and I'm already close, embarrassingly close, but she's arching up into me, gaspingyesandmoreandharder, and I can't hold back.

I fuck her like I've been wanting to. Fast. Desperate. No finesse, no technique, just need. She's meeting me thrust for thrust, nails digging into my shoulders, and when she clenchesaround me and cries out I'm right there with her. Coming so hard my vision whites out.

I collapse on top of her, breathing ragged, my face buried in her neck.

"Fuck," I manage.