Page 9 of In Hot Water (The Hot Brothers #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

ISLA

I yank Dawson through my apartment door so hard I nearly pop his shoulder out of the socket. Oreo’s perched on the bookshelf, tail lashing, green eyes locked on Dawson like he’s prey. Alfred, my ancient Shih Tzu, gives a half-hearted tail wiggle from his donut bed.

I realize I’m just standing there, staring, hand in his. Dawson glances down at our linked fingers, then up at me with a cocked brow and a smile that should be banned in twenty-three states.

“I don’t want to rush things and screw this up,” he tells me, voice low, soft, even as his hungry eyes roam over me.

“I think you’re overestimating how fast this is,” I say, and he looks honestly thrown. “Technically, we’ve had, what, ten dates? You stalked me at that coffee shop for two entire weeks. By my math, we’re moving slow.”

He blinks, those eyelashes of his flickering like he’s debating whether to argue or just fuck me senseless right here, right now.

But then he laughs. That deep, rumbling laugh that vibrates straight through my core, making my thighs clench like a vice.

“I love the way you do math,” he says, his voice dripping with something hotter than molten lava.

And then, oh shit, he grins. That gorgeous panty-melting grin.

It’s the kind of grin that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and he’s reveling in every second of it.

He drops my hand, and for a heartbeat, I think he’s gonna pull away.

But no, no, no. Instead, he moves in closer.

He’s so freaking close I can feel the heat radiating off his body like a furnace.

His chest brushes against mine, and I swear I can feel every ridge of muscle through the thin fabric of his shirt.

His lips brush mine, soft at first, tentative, like he’s giving me an escape hatch before we both combust into a pile of sweat and ecstasy.

But I’m not taking the out. Hell no. Instead, I grab two fists of his shirt, my fingers curling into the fabric like I’m about to rip it clean off him.

I yank him down, and our lips crash together in a kiss so fucking filthy it should come with a warning label.

His tongue is already there, sliding against mine like it’s claiming ownership.

I moan into his mouth, and he growls in response, the sound so primal it sends a jolt straight to my already throbbing core.

His hands tangle in my hair then move down to grip my hips before sliding down to grab my ass like it’s his personal property. And honestly? I’m here for it.

I rock against him, grinding my pelvis into his, and I can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against me like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life. His hips jerk forward, and I gasp, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper his name.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” he growls, his voice rough and ragged like he’s barely holding on. “I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you.”

And then he’s kissing me again, deeper this time, hungrier.

His hands slide under my sweater, and his fingers trace the curve of my waist, then move up to brush the underside of my breasts.

I arch into his touch, my nipples hardening against the rough fabric of my bra.

He notices and his thumb brushes over one peaked nipple, making me whimper like an animal.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs against my lips, his breath hot and ragged. “I could spend hours just touching you.”

“Don’t tease me,” I pant, pulling at his shirt until it’s halfway up his chest, revealing that taut, sculpted torso I’ve been fantasizing about since day one. My hands roam over his skin, feeling every ridge, every dip, every fucking inch of him.

He chuckles darkly, grinding into me again, and I swear I can feel the outline of his cock through his jeans. “Teasing you? Baby, I’m just getting started.”

And then he’s sliding a hand under my skirt and between my thighs. His fingers press against the wet heat waiting for him there. I gasp, my hips bucking into his touch, and he groans, his forehead pressing against mine. “Fuck, I need you,” he mutters, sounding half-drunk on the scent of me.

“You did that to me,” I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

“Good,” he growls, his fingers pushing past the barrier of my underwear, finding that swollen, aching spot that’s begging for attention. And when he touches me there? I see stars. My legs shake, and I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me upright.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice rough and commanding.

“You,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Just you.”

And then he lifts me against his hard body and presses me against the cool wall, his mouth never leaving mine. His cock grinds against me like he’s trying to make me come just from the friction alone.

“Say it again,” he growls, his voice all gravel and need. His breath is hot against my neck, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body, a furnace of pure, unhinged lust.

“You,” I moan, the word slipping out like a prayer or a curse; I don’t even know anymore. My head thuds back against the wall, and I’m trembling, my thighs already slick with anticipation. “God, take me already.”

He kisses me like he’s starving. His tongue is hot and insistent, sliding against mine in a rhythm that’s already got me squirming. He tastes like coffee and peppermint and something darker, something wild and electric that sends shockwaves straight to my dripping pussy.

His lips leave mine, trailing down my neck, nipping and sucking until I’m gasping, my nails clawing at his shoulders. “Please,” I whine, arching into him, desperate for more. “Please, just?—“

He slides his finger through my slick folds, teasing my clit with just enough pressure to make me whimper. “You want me to fuck you that bad, huh?”

“Yes,” I choke out, my hips bucking against his hand. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He lets out a dark laugh, low and dangerous, and then he’s carrying me to my bedroom like I weigh nothing.

He drops me on the bed and steps back to quickly rip away his clothes.

I barely have time to appreciate his Greek god level body before he’s crawling back over me.

His cock brushes against my entrance, and my mind shuts down as my body begs for him to just take me already.

But he’s in no hurry. He pushes into me slowly, inch by torturous inch, stretching me wide until I’m panting, my walls clenching around him like a vice. “Fuck,” he growls, his forehead pressed against mine. “You’re so goddamn tight.”

I’m too far gone to even respond, my moans spilling out uncontrolled as he finally sheathes himself fully inside me. He pauses for a moment, his breath hitching, and then he’s pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, hard and deep, hitting a spot that makes me see stars.

“That’s it,” he growls, his hands gripping my hips, holding me steady as he sets a brutal pace. “Take it. Take every fucking inch.”

I scream his name as my nails dig into his back, my legs locked around him as he frantically pounds into me. With every thrust, his cock drags against my walls, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body. I can feel him everywhere, and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

He groans, his rhythm faltering for a moment, and then he’s reaching between us, his thumb circling my clit with a precision that has me screaming his name.

My orgasm hits me like a freight train, and my body convulses around him.

My inner muscles clamp down on his cock like I’m trying to milk every single drop out of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes, hot and thick, filling me up.

And then he collapses next to me, dragging me with him. He’s still inside me, his cock twitching as he softens, and I can feel his cum leaking out, trailing down my thighs.

“Damn,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, my legs trembling.

He chuckles, low and dark, his lips brushing against my ear. “Damn right.”