Page 16 of Bordeaux Bombshell (Sunshine Cellars #3)

“Off-limits. Couch is closer.” Sydney pushes my jacket and flannel off my shoulders, leaving me in my T-shirt and jeans. Her sweater comes off in a swift movement, her full breasts swelling against the lace of her bra.

I overheard her bragging that no man has been allowed in her room since she moved in. Guess that includes me too.

The air is thick with all the things we haven’t said, and while part of me wants her to ease the tension with a smart-ass comment, I mostly want her to prove that she’s here on purpose by staying sincere.

The same way I don’t dare say any of the million thoughts running through my mind because I don’t know which one will send her running.

I’m here.

I’m staying.

Even though all my dreams feel like they’re farther away than ever, I’m not letting them go.

Especially not her.

So instead, I pull my shirt over my head, then reach for the button of her jeans. She reciprocates, and we tear the rest of our clothes off, carelessly throwing them aside before tumbling onto the couch.

“You did that on purpose,” Sydney pouts as I pin her beneath me, my thigh pressed between hers.

I grin down at her, the fear that she’s going to change her mind and kick me out beginning to fade. “Can’t run the risk of you escaping.”

“I’m not the one who ran away.” She’s smirking, but there’s a glint of the old anger in her eye. It would be so easy to fan the flames and turn this into an argument.

A bristle runs up my spine, but I bite back the retort on the tip of my tongue. “Here and now, Syd.” I dip my head and pull the tip of her nipple between my teeth before replacing them with my tongue to keep her focused on the present and not the past.

She moans and squirms in response, her hips bucking up and grazing the underside of my dick.

The sensation sets off a chain reaction, my toes curling and my ass squeezing as electricity shoots through me.

Fuck. This is what I’ve been missing. I forced myself to forget that this, Sydney, is what my body has been craving for years.

I keep my lips dancing over her skin while I fumble on the floor for my jeans and the condom in my wallet. I don’t dare stop and give her a moment to change her mind. If I can just keep her feeling good, anchored to this moment, I can remind us both of how inevitable we are.

“Do you need a condom?” she gasps, unaware that I already have one pinched between my fingertips. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I give myself a mental high five for being one step ahead of her. “I have some in the bedroom.”

“Don’t need it, don’t want to know,” I growl, whiffing my mental kudos with the reminder that she hasn’t been mine for years. Of course she’s had sex with other guys in the meantime.

Stabbing pain in my ribs catches me off guard, and I almost fall off the couch. “What the fuck, Sydney?” The marks from her nails jabbing deep into my ribcage are already bright red when I glance down. Weirdly, my dick is still at full mast, undeterred by the hellcat’s claws.

“If you’re going to judge, you can go fuck yourself.

” She glares up at me from between my arms. Her chin juts up, eyebrow raised in defiance, but the hitch in her breath tells me she’s not as confident as she’s pretending.

And for whatever fucked-up reason, the way she’s daring me to be angry makes me want to prove to her that I’m not.

“Glad to know you haven’t been reckless, tiger.” I finish sheathing my dick, but instead of sliding home inside her, I drop my knees to the floor, pulling her sideways so her legs dangle over my shoulders. “But now I’m going to remind you who knows your pretty pussy the best.”

With that, I lick from the inside of her knee to the pink lips that are begging me to kiss them instead. Sydney relaxes into the couch with a deep sigh, the leg I’m painting with my tongue extending, muscles flexing with each stroke.

“Oh god, I hate how good that feels.” Her voice is muffled by the thighs squeezing my head, but I nip her in response. “Ouch, shit. Don’t stop, asshole.”

I lift my head to meet her eyes. “Play nice, or I’ll leave.”

She smirks. “You going to take your toys and go home?”

“I won’t let you play with my joystick if you keep insulting me.”

I was scared to break the tension earlier, but this feels right. Like maybe we can still be ourselves without scaring each other off.

“I always preferred playing with your joystick. It was so much better than our crappy old NES system.”

“Do I have to blow on this one to make it work too?” With that, I lean forward and gently blow on her clit, my fingers sliding along her slit, gathering the wetness she can’t hide from me.

I dive in, my tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves, and Sydney lets out a gasping moan. The flexing of her ankle as she squirms pushes against my neck and shoulder, proof I still know her body inside out.

If I wanted to, I could have her coming in a few minutes angling my tongue a little to the right and sliding a finger in her tight pussy with a little pressure to the left. Instead, I keep my tongue and fingers busy, centimeters off the spots I know she wants.

If all the rules are changing tonight, I’m sure as fuck going to make her come with my dick inside her. No more denying myself the one thing I’ve been aching for ever since I came back from France.

She gave me an inch, and I’m going to make her mine.