Page 86 of Tracking Luxe

Chances were for a man she wanted to see more of, no matter what she had to do to make that happen.

Reaching into the wide shower stall, she switched on the water, testing a hand under it. The noise masked the body creeping up behind her until she felt the full length of him at her spine, the rough denim brushing her butt.

That noise coming from her throat was a purr and when he pulled her back, a hand around her waist, the other around the front of her neck, his head buried in her throat, she purred again, loud enough this time to embarrass herself.

“Fucking addicted to you, Luxe,” he rasped, vibrating her skin, making her shiver from head to toe, her butt rubbing back on him. “All of you, every angry little piece of you, not just this.”Thiswas him knocking her with his hard groin.”

Her head swam in the steamy bathroom.

“My girl.Myangry girl. Get used to that, let it sink in. I don’t fucking share. I’ll go and make that coffee, love.” Streaking a hot kiss down the side of her throat he was gone a second later, leaving her standing there dramatically shook and her nipples hard as pebbles, desire rippled in her midsection, his possessive claim turned her on. Scared her. Thrilled her. She swallowed past the lead in her throat.

Well, at least she had no room for misinterpretation. The kidnapper had staked his intentions quite clearly, she thought.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Keeping it in the family…” – Texas

Just once he wanted to see her in a pair of ratty cut off denims that molded to her legs because she hadn’t taken two hours to dress by carefully selecting something from an endless supply of clothes hangers in a boringly organized walk in closet that probably cost more to upkeep than the local food banks. Skin so pale she could almost look washed out in the Ackermann designer pants and blouse she’d come to him dressed in.

Texas had peeled her out of those fast.

Always so impatient to get to the ginger between her legs.

Oh yeah, a true red head, even if she did dye the hair on her head a richer red. Between the apex of her thighs when he got his tongue there, licking and sucking the bud, she was as ginger as a nut. Fucking edible, dragging his tongue the full length of her wet slit.

If he went too hard, too fast, it would be over and he wanted to gulp her in, savor her in his mouth before he even let his swollen cock near her.

God, he was aching, his cock dripping onto the bed.

So much pain to fuck.

When she delicately fingered his hair, he wanted to yell for her to pull harder, her secret moans becoming louder he smiled, spanning her waist, keeping her pinned to his bed.

He licked her slow, she whimpered and begged, it went against every personality trait she had, he wondered if the pleading words shamed her when he made her dirty.

He made this refined girl indecent with the things he said and did to her. She would hate it that he reduced her to pleading, though she never told him so.

Thumbs pressing into her hipbones, he sank into the perfectness of her taste.

There was nothing good about the way she sprawled on his simple cotton sheets.

He wanted her crude with his come, pound it into her until he felt a sense of completion finally, until his bones settled in his skin, because this forbidden want was never ending.

“Please.Please, Tait.” He shouldn’t.

A fast fuck. That’s all it ever was.

It was never enough. Never. Texas wished it was, oh god, how he wished it would just go away.

The way she moaned in that way of hers, throaty and desperate, almost like she was resenting how he made her feel so damn vulgar lying in his sheets with her legs spread out wide, made his cock stiffer than ever to the point of agony.

How she was tarnishing that veil of picture-perfect she projected to everyone. She was far from perfect. She might sit on a million charity boards, she might help to raise money for the underprivileged but he saw beneath her veneer she portrayed and what he saw wasn’t always good.

But Texas had no room to talk. He couldn’t judge a person for the same weakness in himself. He was a weak fucking man.

They both knew how wrong this was.

Texas palmed himself, a current of pleasure punched into his lower belly, rubbing rougher than ever before just to give himself something,anything. He was a pathetic man to let it control him as he did. As he knew though, he fell to weakness more than any other drug.