“Get off me,” she said.
“I think we need to get something straight.” He grabbed her wrists and drew them out of the way, nice and safe on the pillow above her head. The first press of his hard-on between her legs had her back flattening and butt shifting, desperate to get away. His hips pressed down, holding her in place.
“Stop it,” she said.
“So Tim wouldn’t go down on you and Brandon couldn’t get you off, hmm?” He gave her a grim smile and rocked against her, rubbing against her pussy. Only the thin material of his sweatpants and the even thinner flannel of her pajama bottoms stood between them. “What did you expect, with a name like ‘Brandon’?”
“Because ‘Nick’ is so manly.”
He’d have laughed if his dick wasn’t killing him. “Why do you think you never stayed with any of them for more than five minutes? What’s your take on that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Get off me.” Her hips shuffled sideward, or attempted to, but she wasn’t escaping him. Next she dug in her heels and tried to push him off. All that did was open her legs up more to him. The sudden hike in her brows when she realized it was priceless. “Don’t.”
“Two, three dates and you lost interest.”
“Or they did. Stop, damn it.” Her hand flailed for the headboard but that wouldn’t help her either. “Nick.”
“You think they lost interest?”
“Generally that’s what it means when people don’t text you back or ask you out again.”
“Why?”
She shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she still wouldn’t look at him. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t know the right things to say.”
“Hmm. Maybe. But none of them really did it for you, anyway.” He stared at her pretty, screwed-up face, thinking it over. “Even Craig the footballer didn’t turn you on, despite the hot body.”
“Much like you, Nick,” she sneered, all bravado. Pity he didn’t believe it for a minute. He was getting to her. The nipples poking into his chest and the way her body had begun to vibrate beneath him confirmed it. “Get the fuck off me.”
“That sounded like a challenge to me.”
Panic filled her eyes. “No. No, it wasn’t.”
“Mm.”
Back and forth he stroked her with the length of his hard cock. So good he could barely believe it. Molten heat poured through him. He wanted to close his eyes, savor the moment, but he didn’t. Ros stared back at him in dawning horror, which seemed to be her go-to look with him. Never mind. He was determined to make her feel lots of other things. Good things, starting now.
“Those morons didn’t know the first thing about pleasing you,” he said. “They let you down, didn’t they?”
The woman slammed her eyes shut, locking him out. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t shut out his voice.
“I won’t disappoint you, Ros. I won’t let you down.”
Her breath hitched, loudly, followed fast by the clench of her jaw. His mind reeled, trying to take her in. Talk about sensory fucking overload. The feel of her soft breasts caught between them, cushioning his chest, and the tease of her hard nipples. No amount of material could hide them. She smelled so good. If she’d have let him, he’d have stripped her out of those ugly, bulky clothes and licked her from top to toe. Rubbed himself against her, skin to skin. Blood rushed to his throbbing cock, as if he wasn’t hard enough. But skin to skin wasn’t happening. Not yet.
Her voice tightened and her wrists tugged against his hold. “Nick.” She licked her lips and her gaze roved again from side to side, looking for an out. “Wait. Listen to me.”
“No. You’re not talking me out of this.”
Already he could have come. Heat licked up his spine and the sensation grew, deep in his gut. No. This was all about her, but the pressure and the friction were perfect. His balls inched higher and his blood surged hot. He pressed his knees into the mattress, working himself against her, watching her carefully to gauge her reaction. Neither too hard nor too gentle worked best. Could have sworn he could smell her sweet cunt, her arousal. Because she was aroused, there was no hiding it.
“You had polite sex with Craig, because you thought you should. Sounds bloody awful,” he said. “I’ll make you a promise here and now that we are never having polite sex. Over my dead body.”
“You have to stop,” she pleaded, body arching beneath him, writhing against the mattress. Because her body knew what her mind didn’t want to admit. And he read her body perfectly.