The Billionaire Bad Boys Club(27)

“Please call me Trey,” he said.

“Mr. Hayworth—”

She wasn’t trying to be funny, but he laughed. His hand came to stroke her face, those rowing calluses—if that’s what they were—undeniably erotic. His gentleness silenced her, both in his touch and eyes. The pad of his thumb slid across the top her cheekbone. She supposed he noticed the shadow under her concealer, because he clucked his tongue.

“Were you losing sleep over this?” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you do that.”

“You are . . . a very peculiar man,” she pushed out breathlessly.

He smiled, a shade of melancholy in the curve. She couldn’t look away from his gaze, nearly colorless in the shadows but conveying mysterious multitudes of feeling. His narrow waist spread her knees, and her thighs were as tense as stone. Through everything, her hands had remained on his chest. She noticed they’d started rubbing in small passes up and down his pecs.

Trey noticed too. His eyes went dark, his respiration quickening.

“I’m kissing you again,” he warned.

No one could mistake the way she wrapped her arms around him for anything but encouragement.

Her participation seemed to embolden him. He groaned, his kiss turning more aggressive, which felt completely great to her. He pulled her off the counter and fully onto him. Though she clung like a monkey, the difference in their heights meant her pussy rocked against his waist—not the target it craved. Rebecca tried to wiggle lower, which somehow resulted in Trey pushing her into a cement block wall.

That put the huge hump of his erection exactly where she needed it. Heedless of what it said about her, Rebecca threw all her strength into rolling over it.

Trey wasn’t offended. He shoved his hand into the back of her trousers and under her panties. “Fuck,” he said, feeling how wet she was. “Jesus, Rebecca.”

Her name sounded funny when he said it, like he knew her better than was possible. In that moment, she didn’t care. He was hot and hard and she wanted him like she couldn’t remember wanting a man before.

“Yes,” she gasped, tugging greedily at his shirt.

Trey tore it over his head himself. “You,” he said.

Understanding him perfectly, Rebecca returned the favor. She had a jacket to wrestle off, plus a button-down collar shirt. Naturally, she took longer than he had, but he panted flatteringly while she worked, his attention glued to every move she made. He panted harder once her shirt was gone. Her bra was satiny and white with small push-up pads to give her some cleavage. With her usual habit of sticking with the comfortable, she had drawer full of others just like it, bought on sale at a bargain store. She was sure he’d seen nicer—both in lingerie and breasts. If he had, he wasn’t complaining.

“Oh God,” he moaned, staring down at her pebbled nipples. Before she could stop him, he hiked her farther up his body. Nuzzling down into her bra cup, he latched his mouth over at least half of her right breast.

Rebecca’s bosom was too small to be her favorite part of her body, but the way her nerves caught fire as he drew on her certainly increased her fondness.

“Can I?” he broke off to ask, already bending toward the floor. “Rebecca, can I get inside of you?”

His knees hit the tiles, and he rolled her under him. His weight felt good, his heat and the ragged in and out of his ribs. She drove her hands up his naked back, fingertips digging like a cat into its firm muscles. His skin was hot, as smooth as if he’d come to her from a spa treatment. Without a second thought, her legs had spread to make room for him. He looked at her, propped above her on his forearms. The expression on his face shocked her, like if she said yes it would mean the world to him. Who was she that a man like him would look at her that way? Whatever the reason for it, his urgency was catching. Rebecca was so excited she couldn’t seem to take a full breath.#p#分页标题#e#

That she wasn’t in the habit of hopping into bed with men she barely knew was hard to remember.

“Okay,” he said, sensing her lingering indecision. “I won’t ask you that yet. Just open and unzip my jeans. Just take me into your hand.”

“Will you take me?” she asked.

He smiled so wickedly she blushed. That made her feel silly. She wasn’t a mouse. She could ask for what she wanted in plain English.

“I mean will you take my pussy into your hand? Will you get me off too?”

He ducked his head to kiss her, deep and wet and dizzying. When he finally released her, she knew her eyes were starry.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice a fusion of sex and smoke. “If you let me, I’ll get you off each and every way you desire.”