So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(30)

He takes my earlobe between his teeth as he rams his cock into my folds from behind. “You make me crazy, woman.”

Tyson’s thrusts push me against the wall as he smooths his palms up, lifting my arms above my head and securing my wrists against the tile. I’m breathless.

I never knew.

No one ever said it would be like this.

Oh, God. It’s too much—too insane.

With each jab of his flesh into mine, the pressure sends me higher, splintering my thoughts and spiraling the chaos in my body out of control.

Ty drops my arms to grip my hips, holding them tightly as he slams into me, harder, deeper, faster than ever.

I try to hold on to the slick tile, but eventually, I give up. Finally, I grab hold of his wrists. He ruts at me like a stag as I hang on with everything I’ve got. My body gives over to the radiating pressure building deep inside.

“Tyson!” I cry out when I’m overtaken with the cascading pleasure that rocks me from the roots of my hair to the marrow in my bones.

He wraps one arm around my waist and jerks me tight against him as he buries himself to the hilt. His growl accompanies the throbbing pulse of his erection in my pussy as his cum mingles with my own wetness.

We stand, panting, our hands braced against the wall for the longest time. When he pulls out, he turns me to face him and kisses each of my eyelids, the tip of my nose, and then my lips.

“That was amazing.” He hugs me for a moment, his heartbeat thumping in my ear. “And a great way to start the day.”

I nod, but my lungs are still working overtime.

He tightens his hold for a millisecond before pulling out of my arms. “I’ve got to get my ass moving. I’ll see you soon.”

Ty’s out of the shower, trailing water across my bathroom floor and through the bedroom before I can even ask where he’s going.

A few minutes later, when Tyson stops at the coffee pot, I’m perched on the counter in my favorite T-shirt and nothing else.

His eyes don’t meet mine as he fills a cup and adds creamer.

“Where are you heading so early?”

He pauses at the door to the garage but doesn’t look back. “To work.”

“On a Saturday?”

But he’s gone.

Okay then.

My shoulders slump.

I don’t really know what I expected. I mean, he wasn’t in my bed when I woke this morning. I’m not even sure whether he stayed with me the entire night.

And he was very clear that he didn’t want an actual relationship. So, I can’t very well fault him for not giving me declarations of love or spending the day with me, cuddled on the sofa or maybe taking a long walk through the neighborhood.

I heave a sigh.

No. This is best. Keep things in perspective.

I bite my lip and grin.

The perspective from the shower was pretty amazing.




I’ve finished unpacking the kitchen, my bedroom, bath, and what little there was for the living room.

Most of this crap is mine.

I check my phone for the fiftieth time in case Tyson sent a text.

No texts. All day. Nada.

I’ve texted twice. Once to ask how his day was going, and a second to ask what he wants for dinner.

My stomach rumbles.

I was going to try to wait for Ty, but who knows if or when he’ll be home?

Another, more pronounced hunger pang is a sign. A sign from the universe—it’s almost seven forty-five in the evening, and he’s not bothered to contact me all day.

He’s obviously not concerned with me. Hell, I probably haven’t crossed his mind since he walked out that door this morning.

Fine. I’ll make dinner. He can either like it or shove it up his non-communicating ass.

I pull out a box of mac-n-cheese, a can of chunk chicken, and some frozen English peas. Cheesy Chicken Mac. Easy to make, comfort food at its best.

Once the water boils, I pour in the box of macaroni and throw in a couple of handfuls of peas.

A loud bang comes from the garage.

I drop the half-opened can of chicken into the sink and rush into the garage.

Right outside of the garage, Ty stands next to a ladder, wrangling a basketball goal backboard.

His gaze meets mine. “Hey. Look what I got.”

“Well, at least no one is breaking and entering.”

“Sorry. I should’ve let you know I’m here.” He tosses me a grin. “Honey, I’m home.”

I cross my arms and watch him as he maneuvers himself and the backboard up the ladder. His T-shirt rides up as he lifts the thing into place. His abs form their own rigid ladder.

There’s something I should be doing, but—damned if I can remember what it is.

The way his body felt, slicked wet with warm water running over his muscles…I wonder if that will happen—

“Jo!”

His voice startles me from my trance.