Page 80 of A Wreck, You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3)

As soon as everyone gets to their rooms and I’m inside mine, I hear a click.

My heart soars in my chest, knowing he must have an extra key, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps when the door pushes open to reveal him.

I’m standing at the opposite wall and when he steps inside, I’m taking off and rushing to him.

I’m crashing into his tall frame and he’s hauling me up and wrapping me around his body and then we’re kissing like it’s been ages.

And it has been, right? Days, weeks, ages.

When we come up for air, I whisper, “You were being so mean to everyone.”

He squeezes his arms around me, his face so handsome, his eyes so pretty. “Because I’ve been away from my sweet Little Strawberry for so long.”

I smile and tell him, “It’s okay. I’m here to cut through your poison.

Before I fuse our lips together and resume kissing him.

“Oh my God, we’re going to be so late,” I complain, digging into my luggage to look for a dress for tonight. I brought several, just to have choices, and now I don’t know what to go with. I’m thinking about texting Tempest to get her opinion when the selection is made for me.

I’m kneeling on the carpeted floor, my suitcase open in front of me and all my clothes in disarray, when the reason we’re going to be late somehow appears from behind me, leans forward and plucks a deep purple dress from the heap by the side of the suitcase.

“Here,” he says, his voice deep and gruff.

Without looking at him, I snatch it out of his hand and look it over.

It’s made of chiffon with thin spaghetti straps and a deep V neck.

I don’t have a lot of cleavage to show but with its built-in bra and corset style top, my boobs do look great.

Plus it has a frilly skirt that stops midthigh and shows off my legs.

Paired with my favorite heels, this dress is going to look awesome for going to the team party tonight.

I turn to him, grinning, and place a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

Without waiting for an answer, I spring to my feet and run to the bathroom.

I dig around my make-up bag, get out my mascara and blush.

My red lipstick is out on the counter. I have the hair curler plugged in already and so I get to work.

When I notice a movement behind me in the mirror, I say, “No, don’t even think about it. ”

He doesn’t answer and after a few seconds, I finally focus on him.

He’s standing at the door, his arms folded across his bare chest. His hair’s wet from the shower we just took, wayward drops falling and sliding down his neck and collarbone.

In gray sweatpants that hang low on his torso, he looks like the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

He also looks like the biggest man I’ve ever seen.

By that I mean, his dick. The shape of which I can see through the fabric.

It’s hard and it’s bulging out and my mind is alternating between licking those drops of water or licking the precum that must be dripping out of his cock.

Like I had earlier today.

After he came to the room yesterday, we stayed up most of the night, talking, kissing, having sex, eating strawberries.

Some of them he fed me. As in, he took a bite himself and then kissed me on the mouth.

Using his tongue, he pushed the little bite inside.

Some of them he ate off me. As in, he rubbed the fruit on my pussy, played with my clit, even pushed it inside with his finger before scooping it out and eating it, coated in my juices.

By the time we were done, I was a mess. Covered in his bites and strawberry kisses.

In the morning, our plan was to spend some time with the family.

He didn’t want to, but I told him we have to keep up appearances and not completely disappear on everyone.

But it all went to pieces when in the morning I woke up with this stabbing pain in my tummy and the familiar heaviness in my pelvis.

My period. Although the stabbing pain wasn’t what had woken me; it was him.

It was the fact he was slowly, very slowly, fucking into me.

We were lying on our sides, with him being the big spoon, and when he realized I was awake, he said, his voice roughened from sleep, “Woke up to your blood. On your thighs and the sheets. My thighs.” He licked my ear, making me shiver.

“My dick too. You bring a gift for me, baby?”

I arched my hips toward him, moaning, still sleepy and achy and God, so fucking horny.

If we hadn’t talked about my periods before, I’d be so embarrassed.

But I wasn’t. Because I knew. That I was due to start my period soon.

And because I was fiendishly regular, I was hoping it would happen when we were together, so he got to fuck me.

All of which he knew as well. He knew how regular my periods were and how much I bled.

Which also meant, yes, I had brought a gift for him. “Uh-huh.”

I wish I could say I’d planned the trip to coincide with my period, but I hadn’t. Although I love that it worked out that way.

He moans then, like an animal keening in pain, but I knew this one felt good because he went, “Fuck, you feel so good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Jesus, I’ve never felt anything like it.

So hot and tight. So swollen. I’m gonna come so hard.

I’m gonna come so fucking hard for you. So.

Motherfucking. Hard in your period pussy. ”

I reached back and buried my fingers in his hair and whispered, “Come for me then. Come in me.”

But of course, he wouldn’t just take, he’d give too.

So while fucking me oh so slowly with excruciating care, he brought his hand down on my belly.

He pressed it hard, giving me a tummy massage, and holy God, it was the best thing I’d ever felt.

All my ache, my soreness, everything went away and it somehow made me even hornier.

Gosh, period sex is the best thing ever.

Anyway, after that there was no arguing with him.

He wouldn’t let us leave the room. So I texted the girls I had my period—truth—and that I was going to lie down for a while before meeting them downstairs for the party.

They were sympathetic, wanted to bring me things, but I told them I was fine.

I’m not sure what he told the guys, but we’ve been holed up in my room all day doing the same thing that we did last night: talking, teasing, laughing, playing and of course, fucking.

But in addition to all this, he also let me taste him.

Finally. He wouldn’t last night because he was too impatient to teach me and he didn’t want to make me throw up on his dick the first time I tried it.

His words. Plus he said he needed to make sure my lips and his cock became friends like his cock became friends with my pussy.

Actually, my lips, my tongue and my throat needed to become friends with his cock because he was going to be throat-fucking me regularly. Again, all his words.

In any case, this morning he’d calmed down enough to teach me, and I have to say it was hard.

But it was worth it. In the end I think I got some three to four inches in my mouth, before he got too close to coming, rolled me on my back and came inside my pussy.

And now we’re both going to be late because he doesn’t have any concept of time.

With my lipstick poised at my lips, I lock my eyes with his in the mirror. “No.”

His eyes flick down to my mouth for a second before glancing up. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. Told you it makes your mouth more tempting.”

My mouth tingles. “You’ve already ruined it twice.”

“What you call ruin, I call eating,” he says, licking his lips.

“You—”

“And if you didn’t want me to eat your lipstick, then you shouldn’t have bought a strawberry-flavored one.”

I guess he’s right. I did special-order this lipstick that tastes like strawberry.

It was for when he came back for a home game or something.

But then we planned this trip, and of course I had to bring it with me.

I knew the hazards though. But even I didn’t think he’d ruin it twice in a row and plan to do it a third time.

“Shepard?” I call out even though I have his full attention.

“Yeah, baby?” he answers even though he knows he doesn’t need to.

“Don’t you dare ruin my lipstick again,” I tell him. “I mean it. Or I’m going to be so mad at you.”

I look away then because I don’t have time, and putting on bright red lipstick takes patience and skill.

He doesn’t have time either so as I’m putting my make-up on while he stares at me like a psycho—okay fine, not a psycho but like a man who can’t look away from me and hence makes my belly flutter—I tell him that.

I also tell him who we’re meeting downstairs.

Apparently, not everyone’s at the hotel right now.

Some of them have gone sightseeing and then there are nap schedules and Halo just had a major meltdown so they’re watching cartoons right now.

And maybe that’s why I don’t notice it at first. That he has gone quiet.

That he isn’t even looking at me but something else.

Something that I haphazardly took out of my make-up bag because I was hunting for the right brush to put my blush on.

I only become aware of it when I hear him shift and my eyes skitter to his in the mirror.

Only to skitter away and see what he’s staring at with a pulsing jaw.

My birth control pills.

Or rather, the purple case where I put them and always have with me wherever I go. My heart slams in my chest as I watch him look at it. Shivers skitter down my spine and my lipstick falls in the sink with a clatter. I reach my hand out to grab it, but he orders, “No.”

I fist my fingers and snatch my hand back, as if I physically can’t touch it, all because he ordered me not to. He finally looks up at me, his face blank but harsh, his eyes flashing. “Is that it?”