Page 5
Story: Persistent (Adrenalin #3)
Chapter three
Lennon
T he skin on my arm hums with warmth, though it’s not the even, cocoon-like heat of a blanket. It’s more concentrated. Heavier.
Curious, I shift my body into it, searching for an explanation to make sense of the foreign yet not unpleasant pressure.
Blinking my eyes into focus, I realize I’m not in my room, and there’s a large, warm body next to me. Its arm is draped over mine, hot breath kissing my shoulder. The evening comes rushing back as the steady beat in my chest turns erratic and my palms grow sweaty.
I spent the night. Shit!
“Morning,” a husky voice growls in my ear.
I hold myself eerily still. “What time is it?”
The bed shifts as my playboy looks at his watch. “Eight-thirty.”
I shoot up. “Fuck!” My eyes scour the room for my things. “I’m late for work.”
“You just got off a few hours ago, you’re due back already?” The mattress dips as he rolls to his back and stretches.
“Food delivery comes at nine.” I spot my clothes on the floor and jump out of bed to grab them.
“Shit!” I hold my skirt out in front of me, debating the likelihood that I could get away with wearing it again.
My genderless sense of fashion may not raise eyebrows anymore, but wearing the same thing two days in a row will.
Why the hell did I stay over? “I don’t have time to go home, and I can’t go to work wearing yesterday’s clothes. ”
“Why not?” He rubs a hand over the muscled chest I had my mouth on last night, drawing my eyes to that smooth, sculpted skin.
My panic momentarily fades as images from the night flash through my mind like a movie reel, and it’s not until I forcibly shake myself out of my stupor that I remember the wrinkled fabric in my hand. Focus, Lennon.
“I’d prefer it if the whole town doesn’t see me do the walk of shame.” I shake the skirt at him for effect.
“You’re ashamed of craving my dick?” It’s at this moment I realize it’s poking up under the sheet as he lounges in bed.
No wonder he was kissing on me . He’s ready for round…
another round. I give myself two seconds to mourn the fact I didn’t—and won’t be—riding that beast before I get back to the task at hand.
“Why are you such a pig?” I search the floor for the briefs he never actually returned last night.
“Because it makes you hot.” He props himself on an elbow to watch me. “The raunchier I am, the harder you get.”
I cringe at his words, even though he's not wrong. “You think you know that after one night?” I keep my back to him so he can’t see the semi his words have awakened.
“Damn right I do." I can actually hear the grin in his answer. “Seriously, though, you’re a grown man. Why do you care if people know you stayed over?”
“I like to keep my affairs private.”
“Are we having an affair?” The glare I shoot him wipes the grin off his face. His arms shoot up in surrender. “Not a morning person, got it. Wear something of mine then. ”
“That’s worse than wearing the same thing.” I fasten the skirt around my waist, having no other options.
He rubs a large hand over his face. “Okay, what if I go by your place and get you something?”
I pause in the act of pulling my boots on. “You want me to let a stranger wander around my place?”
“You put my cock in your mouth last night, you don’t trust me in your place?” He arches a thick brow, daring me to retort.
I shoot him another scathing look. “No, I don't—I'd have no underwear left.”
He shakes his head with an audible sigh. “What if I go to the restaurant and meet the food people? I’ll hang out until you get there.”
Out of several horrible options, that one seems the least offensive.
I’ve used the same delivery guys for years, so they don’t need me there to supervise.
Plus, they’ll let me know if Mr. Playboy does anything he shouldn’t.
I don’t love the idea of giving him the keys to my baby, but I like that more than letting him roam around my place, searching through my drawers.
“I suppose that’s okay. I’ll drop you by the loading dock and meet you back there after I clean up.”
“Deal, as long as you pack an overnight bag for tonight.” Before I can object he flings the bedding off, giving me a brief glimpse of the stiff cock I find myself wanting against my better judgment, and pulls on a pair of shorts. Snatching up a T-shirt he turns to face me. “Let’s go.”
** *
At home, I take the world’s fastest shower, give my face a quick shave, and change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the Murphy’s logo on it.
Halfway to the door, I backtrack and grab a bag, stuffing a few toiletries and a change of clothes inside.
I have no intention of spending the night again, but I don’t need to smell like the restaurant when I get to his place.
And let’s be real—I didn’t get as much of that gorgeous cock as I would’ve liked—and while I won’t just fall into his bed because he asks, I’ll end up there for another round. How could I not?
Playboy was both rough and gentle, something I didn’t realize appealed to me until it happened.
And his mouth… God, that mouth! I’ll never admit it, but he’s right about the dirty talk turning me on.
That’s one thing I’ve always enjoyed about my infrequent affairs; sex with a stranger is somehow less inhibited, more vocal, and filthy talk does get me going.
So yeah, since he’s not a permanent fixture, there’s little harm in indulging for another night before going back to my regular routine; my own hand, and double A batteries or a Fleshlight, depending on my mood.
With any luck the pleasure he gives me will keep me satisfied until the next time I need a man-made release.
Parking behind the restaurant, I head to the loading dock only to find the delivery truck already gone. There’s a stack of boxes sitting out in the open. Dammit, I knew he couldn’t be trusted. Thank God mountain mornings are cool, or he would have shot my entire day by ruining the food.
I climb the stairs and barrel inside, hoping the idiot hasn’t helped himself to the bar, only to run smack into a firm, unrelenting chest.
“Whoa, slow down, Lennon.” My jaw drops open at the use of my name. “You’re lucky I set the box down or we’d be chasing avocados all over the damn place.” He puts his hands on my arms and pushes me back a step, careful to make sure I’ve got my balance before he lets go.
“How do you know my name?” I’d deliberately withheld it to keep things casual.
“Delivery guys mentioned it.”
“And what did you mention about why you’re here?” I never thought to give him a cover story.
“Don’t worry, your virtue is intact,” he snorts. “I told them you had a stomach bug and called me to open up for you.”
“They didn’t question who you were?” I narrow my gaze, unsure whether to trust him.
“Not since I had the keys to open the door, no. What about you?”
“What about me?” I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“Aren’t you going to question who I am?” His tongue wets his upper lip as he gives me a once over.
“Your credit card said Axel.” I’d been hoping not to admit that I know his name, but the prospect of surprising him is too tempting.
He steps towards me, crowding me against the wall. Don’t kiss me, don’t kiss me, don’t kiss me .
“You knew my name and didn’t scream it when you came?” He toys with the hair at the nape of my neck and leans forward to whisper in my ear. “We’ll have to fix that tonight… Excuse me.” His fingers fall away as he slips past me to pick up another box.
I breathe a sigh of relief. Kissing means feelings, and I definitely don’t have those. Nor do I want them. But as I’m saying a silent thank you his words register. “You’re stocking the cooler?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.
“Delivery guys said the stuff has to stay cold.”
“That’s why they usually put it in the cooler. Why is it sitting outside?” I chase after him, trying to head him off.
“They seemed in a hurry. I told them I could manage.”
“They’re always in a hurry,” I mutter more to myself than him. “I can get it from here. You can go back to bed.”
“I’m already awake. I might as well help. I’ll take coffee though, if you’re offering.” He slides by with another box and sets it on the shelf in the walk-in cooler.
“I wasn’t offering. Seriously, I can take care of the rest.” Does he really think sleeping with him means I want him up in my space?
He pauses in the door and leans against the frame, eyes trailing over my body in a way that would be lewd if I didn’t secretly enjoy it. “I didn’t get the workout I planned on this morning, so I might as well work off the tension lifting boxes. Unless you want to surprise me.”
“Pig.” It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to crack a smile. Dammit , why can’t I stay mad at this guy?
“Only for you.” He gives me a sly wink and shoves off the wall to get another box.
We work silently for a bit, passing each other in the hall as we move produce into the cold storage. When the last box is shelved, he turns to me and wipes his forearm across his glistening brow. “So, you close at night and open in the morning. Is that a normal shift?”
“It is if you own the place.” If he’s surprised to learn that he doesn’t show it.
“When do you relax?”
“I don’t.”
“No wonder you slept through your alarm.” He studies me almost thoughtfully. “You were overdue.”
“Overdue for what? And you let me sleep through my alarm?” Just when I think he’s not so bad he smacks me back to reality.
“There’s no better sleeping pill than a good orgasm—” he ignores my anger “—and you had several, if I remember right.”
“Are you seriously claiming you’re that good in bed?”
He grabs my wrist and pulls me to him, wrapping an arm around my waist. By some unspoken agreement we haven’t kissed, and he makes no move to do that now— thank God —even though his lips are close enough to close the distance.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5 (Reading here)
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
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- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
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- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
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- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40