Page 11 of Hot Blooded

And there I sit, the devil incarnate, lusting after her, my own eyes dark with heat and lust, my body so taut that it feels like I’m going to snap. Like I’m going to throw her over my shoulder, carry her off to my lair and slide home inside that sweet pussy that’s now an unforgettable memory in my mind’s eye.

“I know, Reva. I know that you were upset when I charged in there and that’s why you yelled at me. I get it. We’ve got to have boundaries.”

Her face changes, her mouth dropping open with surprise and twisting with disappointment.

I’m lying. I’m a fucking dog. But I’m lying to this sweet girl that I’ve known for years. And I should be happy that this will settle all of those wicked, earthy thoughts plaguing me right now.

But I’m not happy at all. And when she sighs and drops her hand from my shoulder…it feels like all the light has gone out of my world.

“Let’s go,” I try and say brightly, but my own voice hurts my ears. “I’ve got something fun for us to do.”

And she nods sadly. She wants me. I want her. But it’s best if we don’t do anything about it because if I did and I lost her, I don’t think I’d ever recover.

And I’d damn sure never love a woman again. You can’t give your heart if you don’t have it. And Reva will always own mine.

REVA

“Oh my god!” I cling tightly to the basket of the balloon, my heart leaping into my throat as it shakes and shimmies, lifting off from the ground slowly, the loud roar of the hot air above us filling the balloon making me shudder.

I close my eyes and shriek, dropping down to my knees.

“What are you doing?” Tom laughs and pulls at my arms. “Come up here and watch. You’re missing all the good stuff.”

“Unless the good stuff is the ground, I’m good here,” I mutter, hiding my face in my arms as I hold onto the rough basket like it’s my only lifeline.

I feel the basket shimmy again and squeak, my fingers tightening on the basket again.

“Hey…don’t tell me that fearless Reva is afraid of a little hot air balloon!” Tom’s voice is husky and I feel his fingers dance on my cheekbone, pushing my hair out of my face. I can’t help it, I open my eyes and all I see is his face. His gorgeous face. The carved cheekbones, strong jaw and deep brown eyes lit up with golden sparks.

I’m breathless and tingly all over and I can’t stop staring at him. Can’t stop picturing him walking into that bathroom and this time? This time he walks into that shower stall and his big hands cup my face, his mouth taking mine, kissing me fiercely.

I can feel it. My toes tingle and sparks light up the late afternoon sky as I fall into his eyes. Drift into the fantasy of him picking me up and suddenly he’s not wearing any clothes, his body hard under my fingers, the water pounding onto us as his big hands hold my thighs open and he slides inside of me, fucking me ruthlessly against that shower wall. Until I come apart around him, screaming, my body trembling, my pussy spasming around his steely length.

And then his cock jerks inside of me and his seed paints my inside walls like Van Gogh painting a masterpiece.

My head falls back and I lose myself again and again as he thrusts inside of me harder. Until we fall to the tile floor, pleasure wrapping around us. Fulfilled finally.

“Hey, Reva! You in there, baby girl.”

Oh my god! He called me baby girl. In that damn husky, smooth as velvet voice of his. Goosebumps quiver all over my skin and I unclench my fingers, jerking them over to his shirt and sinking them into his chest.

He gasps and I wait for him to pull me off. To tell me to back off.

But he doesn’t. Instead his warm palms reach up and cup my face and he leans closer, his minty breath dancing across my cheek. Whispering across my ear, “If you don’t get that look off your face, little girl, I’m gonna have to take you back to our room and spank your pretty ass.”

Heat coils through my belly and my eyes widen. There’s a new kind of burn in his whiskey eyes and I can’t stop sinking into them, letting that heat curl in my belly, my pussy clenching hard, crying out for his touch, needing him inside of me, owning me, claiming me.

Breathless, I move closer and my nose touches his, my eyes darting to his eyes. He doesn’t speak, just watches and waits.

But he doesn’t move back. Joy fills me. I’ve never been this close to him, never felt like I’m feeling now.

No man has ever stirred these feelings in me. Just him. Other men on campus have tried. But there’s always only been him.

I move closer and my lips touch his, the hunger catching fire between us, shivers wracking my body as his soft lips cling to mine. His mouth opens and my tongue surges forward into his mouth, tasting the smoky, sharp tang of the alcohol he drank earlier. Tasting the mint from his toothpaste. But most of all, tasting him. That unique taste that is only him. Dark and sinful and necessary to my soul.

He jerks back with a groan. His hands slip lower and he pulls me closer, then he starts to move and I close my eyes again when the basket shimmies.

“Come with me,” he breathes. “Do you trust me?”