Page 27 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

“I’m not begging. I’m polite when I ask for what I want,” she protested weakly, trying to tilt her hips in a clear sign that she wanted me to keep touching her.

“Ask me then, princess.” I grinned and bit the inside of her thigh, taking way too much pleasure from her responding squeal.

“Would you be so kind as to let me come already?” she huffed, cheeks beautifully reddened from anger or lust– and I didn’t care which one. “Please.”

“Gladly,” I said just before sucking her clit in between my teeth. She writhed in my grip, trying to leverage her weight against me.

Our time had to be up any second now. That orange bulb would switch off, and we’d have to get out of the door within seconds.

I threw one of her legs over my shoulder. Esra instinctively hooked her knee into place and used it to lock me tight against her. My mouth still playing with her clit, I spread her pussy and delved two fingers into her.

“Noah!”

Esra came for me. Her pussy squeezed around my fingers. My name mixed with wordless moans on her lips as I thrust into her and lapped up each drop of her sweet wetness.

When the tremors ebbed, I rose to my feet, careful to lower both her legs to the ground slowly. I kept my hands wrapped around her waist to keep her steady, noting that her nails were still digging into my wrist.

She blinked up at me, breathing hard, face flushed, and lips still swollen from kissing.

Climaxing looked damn good on her. I wanted to kiss her again.

I wanted to make her taste just how wet she’d gotten for me.

But I watched her blink, watched the focus return to her eyes, the haze of the moment giving way to confusion.

At least her lipstick wasn’t smudged, or there would have been no mistaking what we’d just done in here.

“I think I just found my new favorite way of having fun,” I told her, just as the orange lamp flickered out. I pulled the bandana back over my face, fixed my pants to hide how fucking hard she’d gotten me, and switched my mic pack back on. “Esra’s mic is dead. We’re coming out now.”

“Steer clear of the kitchen,” Austin warned from the sofa, not looking up from his phone when I walked in the door that night.

“Why?”

“Because you hate mess.”

“Who made a mess in the kitchen?”

On cue, metal clattered to the floor. It sounded like pans and pots crashing together, and Esra let out a loud curse. That answered my question.

Austin looked up then, not toward the kitchen, but at me.

Twelve hours ago, that sound would have sent me sprinting to the kitchen.

I didn’t like mess, and I didn’t like it when people made messes.

It wasn’t that hard to keep things tidy.

But twelve hours ago, I’d had no clue what Esra tasted like when she fell apart on my tongue– and I wasn’t sure how she’d react to seeing me right now, considering we’d gone our separate ways after the show.

I was, however, sure that I didn’t want Austin to witness that encounter, even remotely.

I flexed my fists and forced my feet to carry me past the door to the kitchen and toward the stairs. “Don’t let her burn the house down.”

“No promises,” Austin replied with a dry chuckle.

Upstairs, I hit the shower and turned up the volume on the old bathroom radio, to muffle the sounds from both outside and inside the bathroom.

I finally had a few minutes to myself. An endless loop of Esra’s sighs and moans had been echoing through my head all day.

While I’d managed to dispel all the intrusive scenarios of anyone else touching her, I was now plagued by the very real memory of her reactions to my own touch.

I had to get her out of my system for good.

Fisting my cock, I let my noise be drowned by the shower stream and the music.

“Fuck,” I moaned, mentally replaying images of Esra’s flushed face and her full lips as she begged for my touch.

I didn’t register the lights flicking off at first, but then the radio in the corner died with a whiny squeak, plunging me into silent darkness. Then the yelling started.

“Fuck,” I grunted again, for a very different reason, and fumbled in the dark to turn the water off.

The shreds of light coming through the milky window indicated that the other houses still had power. While I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, I had an inkling that Esra’s kitchen skills were responsible for this blackout.

After finding my phone and turning on the flashlight, I jumped into my jeans commando real quick before I left the bathroom to investigate.

I didn’t bother with any other room and beelined for the kitchen.

Austin had his flashlight pointed right at Esra, who was yelling about not knowing what was wrong and not having done anything .

I slipped right past her. I couldn’t look at her.

Not when I’d just been jerking off to memories of her.

I turned the oven off and unplugged all kitchen appliances, as well as the phone and tablet she had been charging.

I checked the switches on the exhaust and the AC, and turned those off as well.

That girl had been sucking enough electricity into this room to power a whole town.

Even though the staff buildings weren’t too old, they hadn’t been built to house a dozen people with multiple supercomputers each.

I wordlessly made my way to the basement. As expected, the breaker for the kitchen had triggered the main one. Both clicked back into place, I waited a moment to see if they’d blow again, but they seemed to hold.

The light flicked on, and I turned to find Esra standing in the door, hand on the switch.

“What on earth were you doing?” I asked.

“Baking.”

“Take this as your sign to look for a different hobby.”

“Like what?” She propped her hands on her waist, elbows jutted outwards.

Maybe that pose was supposed to look intimidating, but it only drew my eyes down to her loose tank top, which was thin enough to expose her lack of a bra.

The curves of her breasts were perfectly outlined under the white fabric, and the basement was clearly a few degrees cooler than the kitchen.

“Oh, come on,” I huffed and ran a hand down my face, too aware of the denim grazing over my naked skin as water-drops fell from my hair to my shoulders.

Esra seemed to catch on, her own gaze raking over my bare chest, down my stomach and to the jeans hanging low on my hips. Her throat bobbed. Unlike her, I didn’t parade around half-naked, but judging by the way she sucked air through trembling lips, she might have preferred if I did.

“I’m going back to my shower.” I stepped around her, careful not to brush even a single hair on her, because if she kept looking at me like that, we wouldn’t make it upstairs anytime soon.