So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(296)
I slap at the night table to turn off the alarm, but my hand doesn’t land on the phone—it comes into contact with a solid, warm body.
My eyes fly open.
Big hands pull me closer to his chest.
Maybe I’m still sleeping.
Wait. No.
Fuck.
Buck grins at me. “Morning, Beautiful.”
My lungs deflate. Shit. I’m so screwed.
He rolls away for a moment, taking his phone from the night table and swiping his finger across the screen. “Trudi, why the fuck are you calling me so early on a Saturday?”
Her voice is muffled at his ear, but the tone is clear. She’s not happy.
A crease forms between his brows. “Ah, shit. I forgot. Damn. Yeah, I’ll get my ass there, but you have to give me a couple of hours. I have something that needs doing this morning.”
He reaches for me as I scoot away from him, almost falling off the edge of the bed before I catch myself. I hold up a finger as I back toward the hotel bathroom. Luckily, there are complimentary toiletries in the little basket on the counter.
I put off going back into the room with him by brushing my teeth—twice. I get into the shower, wash my hair, shave my legs, and soak under the hot spray.
The toilet flushes. My gut twists.
The sink faucet turns on. I pretend to still be busy in the shower by washing my body a second time. Maybe he’ll leave and I can get my shit together before I have to face him.
The shower curtain swishes open. “Hey, want some company?”
I shake my head.
His eyebrow quirks. “Too bad, Lover. I’m coming in.”
“That’s fine. I’m finished anyway.”
He steps in.
I step out.
He leans around the curtain, holding it to his chest. “Suit yourself. I’ll have you in a shower eventually.”
I wrap in the oversized bath towel and head back into the room. I dig into my purse and pull out my hairbrush.
Buck’s deep timbre comes through the bathroom door. Is he fucking singing?
A few minutes later, he’s out, butt-ass naked, his arms circling my waist as he kisses the back of my neck. “You smell delicious. Can I get a taste?”
I frown at his reflection in the mirror. “Fuck. I forgot—you’re a morning person.”
“You don’t have to say morning like it’s a dirty word.” He nibbles at my pulse point. “Can I get that taste? Just a little to tide me over until later?”
“Taste? You want some coffee? Or they may have a complimentary breakfast buffet downstairs.” I smile. I shouldn’t. I don’t really want to. But I can’t stop it.
He drops to his knees, pulling off my towel as he goes. “Nope. I want pussy for breakfast. Prime, grade A, brown-sugared pussy.”
“I thought you had something that needed to be done this morning.”
He grins. “You. You’re what needs doing.”
He pushes my hips until I’m backed to the edge of the low dresser, the wood cold beneath my ass. Grabbing my knees, he spreads them. Warm liquid flows to my slit as he leans close, breathing on my clit.
I catch my breath as his wet tongue smoothes over my pussy lips, sliding into my entrance.
Screw it.
He’s fucking paying me. If I’m going to prostitute myself and risk ending up just like my mom, I may as well enjoy it, right?
I pull up my feet so my heels sit at the edge of the dresser, my legs falling open, making plenty of room for him to enjoy his early morning snack. Leaning against the mirror, I close my eyes and give myself over to Buck and his tongue.
The man could go into a fucking record book. I’ve never had my pussy so thoroughly devoured as he’s done. And I’ve had no shortage of guys who’ve tried to get me off this way. None of them have ever been up to the task. Only Buck.
Only. Ever. Buck.
* * *
I slide my shades on as we walk out the sliding doors at the hotel entrance. Thug One and Thug Two wait with Buck’s SUV and his motorcycle under the portico. Neither of them will look at me.
Fine. I don’t want them looking at me anyway. The amount of noise I made last night—and this morning—is appalling.
We slide into the SUV.
Buck pushes his arm behind me, yanking me to the middle of the backseat, buckling me in right next to him. “You sit by me.”
I frown and cross my arms.
“Thurman, we need to meet the crew at the Rec Center down town.”
“Got it, Boss.” The window between the front and back rolls up, blocking Thurman from our view, or maybe vice versa.
“Thurman?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t call them Thug One and Thug Two all the time. I do know their names. Thurman and Roy.”
His hand slides up my leg, his pinky snuggling next to the seam that runs over my pussy.