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“Did you mean the other stuff you wrote?” she asked, turning to face Chad. Standing inside the small studio, the bed to her back, she sl
ipped off her shirt and tossed it aside. “On the receipt?”
“Yes.” His hands went to the buttons on his flannel. “Take what you need from me.”
Chad tossed the shirt aside, his hands moving to his belt, the same one she’d bound behind his head last night. Pants undone and low around his hips, he bent down to unlace his boots. He kicked them off, stripping away his remaining clothes.
Those chiseled abs, his hard, oh-­so-­impressive length—­she might have a panic attack right now. And it would have nothing to do with post-­traumatic stress. She wanted to touch, taste, and explore every inch of his body.
“I’m feeling very needy,” she murmured, kicking off her shoes. The rest of her clothes followed. “Right now, I need you to lie down.”
He walked around the other side of the bed, his brown eyes bright with mischief. Stretching out on his back, he placed his arms overhead.
“I’m ready, Lena.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as she knelt on the edge beside him. “Show me who you are. Before the war. After. Now. I want you.”
Raising her hand, she trailed her fingers over his chest, outlining his perfect abs. Who was she? A woman who’d kept her desires and wants locked away, afraid that any little sound or movement would set off the internal alarm she’d carried home from Afghanistan.
But not tonight.
Her hand moved lower, wrapping around his cock, and her gaze followed. His hips lifted to meet her touch, a silent request for more, as Chad let out a shaky exhale. She looked up at his face, continuing to stroke him. The charismatic smile had slipped away, replaced by a rough, almost feral expression. He looked as if he was barely holding on to his control.
“Do you know what I want?” she said softly. “I want to feel you pressed against me.” Her free hand moved between her legs, stroking her slick, sensitive clit. “Here.”
Chad let out a low groan.
“Drives you wild, doesn’t it,” she said. “Having the tables turned?”
“Beautiful, you can talk dirty to me anytime.” His body remained tense, his hips glued to the mattress. “But two can play at that game. My hands stay where they are.”
“Good,” she murmured.
“For now,” he added. “But just say the word and I’ll take over. I’d start by spreading your thighs.”
She slid her knees across the bedspread, opening up to him as his words teased and toyed with her senses.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his focus on her fingers as her hips rocked into her touch. “Get close. But then I want you to stop. When you come, I want to be inside you, Lena.”
“Yes.” It was part cry, part whimper.
“Get there,” he said, the rough edge to his voice highlighting his struggle to hold back. “To that point where you need me.”
Need—­the way he’d said that one word, as if it came from a place so elemental, so basic, it couldn’t be denied.
“Now,” she said. “I want you now.”
If he said another word, she’d tumble into an orgasm. She took her hand off his cock, looking around the small space like a wide-­eyed teenager who knew the next step, but was too overrun with wanting to think straight.
“There’s a box of condoms in the nightstand,” he said, his teeth clenched tight.
She found the box, quickly removing a strip, tearing one off. Returning to her perch on the bed, her legs trembling, not with fear, but desire to leap into the next moment. She covered him and settled one leg on either side of his hips. Holding him with one hand, she guided him inside, feeling every inch.
“Wow,” she murmured, leaning her head back.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he said. “Please. I need to know you’re right here with me.”
Lifting her head, she met his intense gaze. She began to move, riding him at her pace, taking her time, savoring the slow build to the end.
Anxiety waited on the perimeter, making way for a rainbow of emotions. Desire chased by reckless, wanton abandon as her hips rocked faster and harder, craving the physical rush of sensations.