Page 7 of Mr. Wrong (Hollywood Knights #1)

Seven

Ellenore

Surprise me?

Seriously?

Surprise me?

I hate surprises.

Honestly hate them.

I’m a planner. I need structure. To know with unwavering certainty exactly what’s going to happen next.

I have never, in my entire life, encouraged someone to surprise me .

What the hell has he done to me?

Who have I become?

Instead of asking out loud, I keep wondering while he opens the door and pulls me inside.

As soon as it’s snapped shut, Lex has me pushed up against it, his mouth inches from mine, his fingers pushing past the place where the hem of my T-shirt meets the waistband of my jeans.

The feel of his fingertips grazing my skin sets off an involuntary shudder, the force of it pushing an embarrassing yelp up my throat and past my lips.

“Do I need to kiss you again?” He’s teasing me, trying to get me to relax but it’s not working. Instead it sweeps a wildfire of mortification across my face.

And just like that, I’m back to being me.

Bland, boring, predictable me.

Ellenore Pierce.

Pudding Girl, extraordinaire.

“I’m sorry…” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head.

Jesus. He probably thinks I’m some sad, lonely virgin and that I made up my ex-boyfriend to seem less pathetic.

Sadly enough, Derek is real and despite the fact that I’ve had sex an adequate amount of times, I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

I mean, shit—I don’t even know what to do with my hands.

Where do I put them. Am I supposed to touch him. “I told you, I’m not good at—”

I let out another sound when I feel his mouth brush against mine—this one less holy shit and more yes, please —the tip of his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth without trying to push its way inside.

Letting me decide if I want to let him in.

When my mouth finally parts on a sigh, he kisses me, his tongue moving against mine in slow, lazy sweeps until my bones and muscles go soft and my brain starts to buzz before he finally breaks his mouth away from mine.

“Look at me.”

Something about his tone pulls my eyes open.

He’s looking at me, his impossibly blue gaze hooked into mine.

He moves slowly, one of his hands skimming along my waist. Down the curve of my hip until his fingers link with mine.

“I want to show you something,” he says, lifting my hand in his.

I think he’s going to pull me off the door and into a dark bedroom, so he won’t have to look at me and all my glaring inadequacies.

Instead, he guides my hand into the space between us.

Lifting his other hand, he plants his palm on the door, next to my head so he can lean into my touch.

“Do you feel this?” He whispers it, his gaze going dark and heavy when his fingers shape mine around the hard length of his cock.

“I’m so fucking hard it hurts, Ellenore.

” He leans into me again so I can feel every word he says brush against my lips.

“You did that…” He sinks his teeth into my lower lip, nipping softly.

“You and your ponytail, and your soccer mom sweater and your goddamned tennis shoes.” The hand on the door inches closer to my head.

Close enough to wrap its fingers around my ponytail and give it a not so gentle tug, tilting my head back to expose my throat.

“This isn’t a pity fuck. This isn’t I’m horny and anyone will do .

” His mouth moves, nipping and kissing along my jawline.

“I had a fight with my brother and took a ride to clear my head. Ended up at the bar because I didn’t want to go home just yet.

” His teeth scrape along the place where my shoulder meets my neck and I moan, my hand instinctively tightening around his shaft when the sound of it causes his cock to jerk in response.

“I wasn’t looking for a fuck but then there you were, looking so sexy I couldn’t have resisted you, even if I tried.

” His teeth sink into my neck, deep enough to elicit another moan, this one sharper and shaped around his name.

“ Lex …” My free hand lifts on its own, its fingers spearing through his hair before tightening into a fist while the hand on his cock sweeps a thumb across its head.

He growls against me in response, the hot vibration of it humming over my skin before pushing deeper until it’s seeped into my muscles. Vibrating in my bones.

I’ve never made a man growl before.

I think I like it.

I think I want to do it again.

Before I can, Lex lifts his head, pinning his hot gaze to mine while the hand pressed against mine changes position.

Sliding his fingers up to grip my wrist, he pulls my hand off of him, lifting it to pin it to the door above my head.

The hand on my ponytail untangles itself to reach up and back, pulling my fingers from his hair.

“Quiz time, Ellenore,” he says, stacking my hands together above my head, his long, thick fingers cuffing my wrists.

“ Quiz ?” Jesus, I can’t tell him what day of the week it is, let alone answer test questions.

“Yup.” His free hand splits my cardigan open until each side of it frames my breasts.

“Question number one…” His gaze dips to watch as he circles one of my nipples with the tip of his index finger.

It instantly stiffens and swells against the fabric of my shirt, seeking his touch.

“Was I looking for someone to bring home tonight?”

I shake my head, gasping softly when the finger on my nipple is joined by his thumb, pinching and rolling it until I feel my bones start to melt. “No.”

“Correct.” He smirks at me again, the hand on my breast sliding down the length of my torso. “Question number two…” His fingers skim the soft skin just below my bellybutton. “Is making you come a part of some sort of pity fuck outreach program I’ve got going?”

“No.” I whisper the word and hold my breath when the fingers on my belly find the top button of my jeans and free it from its loop with a practiced flick.

“Good job.” He eases my zipper open, slowly working my jeans down my hips. “Question three…” he stops tugging when the waistband of my jeans is banded around the top of my thighs. I try not to think about what I’m wearing. White T-shirt. Beige cotton bra. Beige cotton briefs under my jeans.

That’s me.

Who I am.

Mom sweaters and serviceable cotton underwear.

Like he can read my mind, Lex frowns at me, his gaze lowering to my mouth. “Who am I hard for?”

The question stains my cheeks pink and the frown on his face deepens into something closer to a scowl. “Me,” I breathe it out in a rush, licking my lips because my mouth is so dry I feel like it’s been stuffed with cotton. “You’re hard for me.”

The frown on his face slips away, replaced by a look I’ve never seen aimed in my direction before.

Lust.

White-hot, mind-blowing lust.

His gaze bounces up to find mine. “You.” His hand slips between my thighs, the heel of it pressing against the top of my cleft while his fingers skim along the stretch of damp cotton between my legs.

“ Christ ,” he groans, low and deep in his throat when he feels how wet I am.

“What’s your ex-boyfriend’s name? The one who dumped you? ”

“Derek.” I gasp it, the name ripped from my mouth when Lex grinds the heel of his hand against my clit and my hips jerk away from the door he has me pressed against, pushing and tilting into the pressure of his fingers between my legs.

He drops his hand away from my wrists so he can hook both of his thumbs into my underwear.

“Well, Derek is a fucking idiot,” he says, jerking them down to meet my pants.

Like he can’t wait to touch me, his hand pushes between my thighs again, fingers lightly tracing the swollen seam of my pussy.

“Last question, Ellenore …” He pushes deeper to tease my entrance, the heel of his hand grinding against the top of my slit.

“Who’s about to make you come so hard you’re gonna see stars? ”

That one’s easy.

“You are.”

As soon as I say it, he pushes two of his fingers into me, so slow and deep I can feel a moan stuttering and clawing its way up my throat.

“Gold star.” He pumps his fingers in and out of me, hooking their tips slightly, rubbing and touching places inside me I’ve lived my entire life believing were a myth while his thumb pushes past my folds to graze and tease my throbbing clit.

His arm slips around my waist, forearm pressing into the curve of my lower back.

Holding me close while the relentless rhythm of his fingers fucking me pushes me closer and closer to orgasm with every stroke.

I can feel it building, seated low and tight in my belly, growing and heating, the force of it threatening to take me somewhere I’ve never been.

“Next, I’m going to fuck you with my mouth.

” I can feel his breath, shallow and ragged against my neck.

His fingers digging into my hip. The rigid push of his cock rocking against my thigh in time with the pump and thrust of his fingers inside me.

“As soon as you come on my fingers I’m going to—”

“ Lex .” He wasn’t kidding. I’m actually seeing stars. My hips buck forward, pushing into the pressure of his fingers, even as my pussy contracts, gripping them so hard he groans in response.

“ Surprise .”