Page 39 of Total Abandon

“I didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed, otherwise I’d have brought a burlap sack—trust me.” She snatches the comforter back and I throw the blanket across the room, taking out some of my frustration on it. It hits the opposing wall with a soft thud and slides to the floor.

Wrapping myself back around her bare skin is my own special brand of torture. It slides like the finest silk beneath mine, warm and supple. I want to roll on top of her and mess her up until she’s writhing beneath me. I wonder what sounds I can pull out of her with my tongue. My teeth. My— She shifts again, and I clench my teeth as her ass almost brushes my cock.

“You need to stop that,” I warn roughly, tightening my arms.

“I didn’t ask you to cocoon yourself around me. If you—” I press my hips forward, pushing my straining cock against her ass. My boxer briefs have it in the world's most uncomfortable stranglehold, but the words die on her lips, and she squeaks. Fighting back a groan and the urge to thrust into the warm, inviting space between her ass cheeks, I lift my head and graze my teeth along the shell of her ear.

“All you have to do is say one little word, baby.”

“One word?” Her voice is barely above a soft rasp in the darkness. I trace my hand down her side, dragging my nose down the nape of her neck in tandem. Her back arches and her breathing becomes choppy, which makes me throb against her ass. Tracing my fingertips along her silk clad hip, I make a snap decision to test how far she will let me go.

I slip my hand to the apex of her thighs, sliding my fingers over silk until I’m gripping her in the most intimate hold. If I wasn’t already lying down, the warm, wet heat bleeding through the silk might just bring me to my knees. She whimpers and her body trembles. My heartbeat kicks up a gear, feeling like it might just tear itself out of my body, every instinct I have screaming at me to pin her to the bed and fuck her into submission. “Saypleaseand it’s all yours, mi fuego.”

She squeaks and then darts away, scooting her ass forward. I could hold her there easily, but I let her go, chuckling deeply as I watch her retreat to her side. “Okay, new rule. See this pillow?” She wedges a spare pillow behind her back, blocking herself from view. “Think of it as the US/Russia border line. You keep your crab pots on your side, and I’ll keep my crab pots on mine.”

“Pardon me?” I have no idea what the fuck she is talking about.

A small pause, and then a sigh. “You’ve never watched Deadliest Catch, have you?”

“No.” I shake my head, rolling onto my back and grimacing as my dick throbs angrily.

“Well basically, either party isn't allowed to fish in each other's waters, or they’ll get arrested and fined. So, you get the deal.”

“Thank god, for a moment I thought you were calling your pussy a crab pot.”

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Guerra.” She sighs exasperatedly, but I can tell she’s smiling just like I am.

Chapter 19

Asshole Sweeney:Zeke Guerra…really? If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was call me, Chloe.

Asshole Sweeney:That’s where the money came from?

Asshole Sweeney:A little ironic that you have no qualms fucking a man and taking his money, don’t you think? The hat’s the same whichever way you wear it, sweetheart.

CHLOE

I’m being rocked gently by the sea, cocooned in warm blankets, with the wind ruffling my hair. Sighing contentedly, I snuggle down further into the warm pillow. It smells delicious—like pine and musk. It smells like home. “Good morning.”

I frown, because my sleep hazed brain can’t place the low vibrating rumble and I’m pretty sure it just came from my pillow. Cracking one eye open, I’m met with expanses of tanned, tattooed chest. It’s only then that I realize I’m plastered to Zeke’s side like a limpet, and the gentle rocking is his bicep flexing beneath my head as he trails his fingers through my hair. Oh, fuck.

He’s staring lazily at the ceiling with his free arm tucked beneath his head. The soft morning light spilling in between the blinds sets a subtle glow about his chiseled features, throwing that devilish scar, buried in stubble a little longer than I’ve ever seen it, into silvery white relief. Long, thick lashes that have no business on a man frame his warm chocolate eyes as he turns them on me. Stunning. He’s absolutely stunning and it’s annoying. No one should look this good in the morning.

“Unless you’re planning on doing something about that, I suggest you move your hand.”

I frown, and then follow his pointed look down. My gaze catches on the cut divots of washboard, tattooed abs before coming to rest on my hand—which is draped across a very apparent, veryenormouserection straining at the fabric of his black Calvin Klein’s, engagement ring glittering. I squeak and snatch my hand back like I’ve been burnt, scrambling up and away from the heat of his body. My center of gravity tips and I feel my stomach jolt as I begin to topple right over the edge of the bed in my haste. A strong hand shoots out to grab my arm, pulling me back to a steady kneeling position.

I should thank him, but I’m too entranced by the thick rod of his manhood. It’s obscenely large. Like, how would that even fit, large? My tongue darts across the seam of my lips as I study every line and ridge through the material, my chest feeling a little tight as a steady thrum erupts between my thighs.

“You’re staring,” Zeke deadpans, making no attempt to cover himself.

“Yep.” I definitely am—there is no point denying it. He pulses against the material of his boxers and I tilt my head, finally glancing up his long, muscled body with a brow raised. His eyes floor me with the fiery burn raging there, his jaw clenched tightly shut as he watches me. “It’s no wonder you’ve got an ego the size of Texas with that thing in your pants,” I quip, trying to steady my heart as it rattles around my ribcage.

“Thank you.” The corner of his decadent mouth tips skyward, and I scoff.

“Only you would skip right past the inflated ego part and take that as a compliment.” I roll my eyes, shifting on my laurels. I’m playing it cool, but all I really want to do is slide my fingers beneath the waistband of those boxer shorts and take a better look. I wonder if I would be able to fit it in my mouth?

“You’re staring again,” he drawls, and I jerk back into the room, realizing my eyes had drifted back to his crotch of their own accord. He’s lying smugly with both arms tucked behind his head now, looking like some kind of carved Adonis in my pink teenage bedspread.