Page 62 of Center of Gravity

I wanted him to leave and I also didn’t, but I nodded agreeably regardless. “I’m happy to help. Take it easy tonight, okay?”

“Sure thing. You do the same.”

“Hey,” I called out, and he turned, catching the box of Cracker Jack I tossed in his direction and shoving it into his back pocket with a reckless smile.

Then he threw that goddamned wink at me as he reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

20

Alex

I’d hardly registered movement before Rob was behind me, slamming the door shut even as I was trying to pull it wider. I heard more than felt the back of my head hit the door as he whipped me around and thrust me against it, his fists bunched in the fabric of my shirt near my shoulders. My back thudded against the wood and knocked anoofout of me. Winslow scrambled down the hall, barking at the commotion, but the cacophony filtered through me as if from a distance.

My world filled with the immediate sound and scent and feel of Rob, how much I fucking missed all of it in just a week, how wolfish and needy his gaze was on me, almost predatorial. His arms wrapped around my neck and he came at me like he’d been starving. I repaid the intensity, hands tearing through his hair until he grunted at the sharp sting of my nails as they dug into his scalp and pulled him closer. I yanked his head back until his mouth fell open and he winced.

His kiss was hungry and hot, our tongues twisting together fervently, messy and uncouth. My lip ring knocked against his teeth and Rob seized it in a tight clench, tugging on it as I moaned and pushed my hips against the thick rod in his pants.

I staggered a breath out, pulled back, and rasped. “I was trying.Fuck—” His hips ground against mine again, insistent.

“I know,” he panted back. “Me, too.” And then he descended on me again.

He tugged my T-shirt up, and we separated long enough to pull the thin cotton over my head. I shoved off the frame of the door and then grabbed Rob by the lapels of his shirt when his balance faltered.

“This is fucking happening,” I muttered, determined, and I caught him starting to smile. My fingers fumbled impatiently at his shirt and finally I gave up and just pulled the thing apart, buttons flying as I wrenched the fabric open and ran my hands over his chest.

Rob’s back bumped against the stairwell post and he cranked us around, spinning me along the side of the staircase so my back was to him. I grasped the rails as his fingers dug into my hips, circling me and fiddling with the button of my shorts. It was tight and he struggled to get it through the hole.

“Christ,” he growled. “What is this thing, a fucking titanium chastity belt?”

I gave a breathless laugh and pushed his hand out of the way, wiggling the button free while his impatient hands waited to shove my shorts to my ankles. “You should know better than to ever use the word chastity around me.”

I was drunk on him. Tipsy and sluggish and so fucking wanton, my body liquid and bending into his every touch. Seeking it out. Craving it.

I wrapped my fingers around the railings again, head thrown back while Rob savaged my neck with his teeth in sharp, stinging nibbles before he burned a trail of kisses down my swaying, shuddering spine. My body twisted and turned with every touch, undulating like a cobra against him, my ass nudging his cock through his jeans in unsubtle invitation. When I met the absence of resistance, I snarled in frustration until I realized he’d dropped to a crouch behind me.

“I swear to God, Rob, if you don’t fuck me, I’m—”

I gasped as my cheeks were roughly spread and Rob laved his tongue along my crevice. I went raspy quiet, another tremor moving through me as his tongue circled the tight ring of muscle.

“Oh fuck, oh God.” I moaned as Rob pushed his tongue inside me once, and then again and again, spearing me in a punishing rhythm until I was soaked and pre-cum dribbled from the head of my cock down my shaft where he lapped it from my balls. It was like living the highlights reel of all my favorite dirty moments with him at once.

My hips twitched in his fingers. My calves tensed and released. It was like every bit of my body was straining toward him. The way his hands moved over me, kneading me, coaxing me, caressing me, was poetic. For whatever else he was, he was a sexual savant and I was so fucking responsive to him, so completely helpless in his hands.

When he slid a finger inside me, rubbing the magic spot that had me clenching and shouting, I almost lost it. He shuddered out a long breath in reply.

He backed off the intensity, stroking and stretching me slowly from the inside, licking the place where his fingers joined my body until I was limp in his hands and the railings were necessary to keep me upright. I rocked onto his fingers, movement rippling from my body into his like a wave.

“Don’t move, I like you just where you are, just like this,” he whispered and vanished along with Winslow. It was agony waiting for him, every place he made me burn now cold and empty.

My head drooped beneath my arms as I waited, then heard his steps down the hall, and a pause that made me crane in his direction to see why he’d stopped. He stood a distance away, and though the light wasn’t more than the soft glow of the wall sconces, there was a kind of cast to his face, desire carved in his brows and tightening his eyes, parting his lips. His hair was wild and his expression so flushed and unhinged that it stole my next breath.

“Goddamn, you’re beautiful,” he said. Those three words and the aching way he said them washed over me like a spotlight’s heat, saturating me with warmth.

Then he was behind me again, kicking off his pants. The sound of foil tearing, the stretch of rubber. I gasped at the chill of lubed fingers slipping inside me again.

The crown of his cock trailed along the crack of my ass, teasing my hole until my knuckles went white and I was one breath shy of demanding he get the fuck inside me before I lost it.

When he pushed into me, I gave a hoarse cry that made him go still. “Okay?”