I lose coherent thought as he starts to kiss down my stomach, then down my inner thigh. Holy shit. His brown eyes glance up at me as his tongue licks me, sliding through me before landing on my clit and flicking.
“Vinnie,” I moan, lifting my hips as he grabs them and uses them to help him bring his mouth even closer. He pulls away, making me moan again, this time in protest. He stands up and lifts me over his shoulder in one swift move, slapping my ass as he carries me up the stairs and into his room. He puts me down on my feet, then lays back on the bed and demands, “Sit on my face.”
Without hesitation, I climb up his body and do just that, lowering my pussy on his face and grabbing onto the headboard for support as he starts to eat me again. I moan loudly when he puts direct pressure on my clit with his tongue, and grind myself down on him shamelessly. The orgasm hits me out of nowhere and blinds me with its intensity.
“Oh my god,” I yell, closing my eyes and just feeling, my thighs trembling and my world spinning. He continues to torture me, even after the waves cease, so I lift my leg off him, panting, and look down at him. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins wolfishly, making me shake my head and smile back at him.
Talented bastard.
“Your turn,” I announce, moving down the bed. I take his cock in my hand and lick the head. There’s no way I’ll be able to fit all of him in my mouth, not even close, but I’ll do my best. I want to give him the best head he’s ever had. He threads his fingers through my hair, gently holding my head, not pushing me down like some guys do. I lick him from base to tip, then suck him deep into my mouth. He makes a sound, almost like a growl, that makes me take even more of him into my mouth. Fuck, that sound. So sexy. He makes it again, and I moan around his cock.
“Fuck,” he grits out, gently pushing me off his cock. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
He grabs me and pushes me back on the bed, bracing himself on top of me. He slides his finger inside me and finds me wet.
He positions himself and is about to slide inside me when we hear banging.
“Are you serious right now?”
I could cry. What was the noise? Is someone trying to get in?
“Motherfucker,” Vinnie snarls, jumping off the bed and grabbing a pair of pants out of his bag. He throws me a T-shirt. “Put that on and lock the door behind me.”
“Do you think they’ve found me?” I ask, sliding the huge black T-shirt over my small frame. “What do we do, Vinnie?”
“You stay here, and let me handle it,” he says, putting a shirt on and stepping toward the bed. He opens a drawer and pulls out two guns. “Do you know how to use one?”
“No.”
He hands it to me and gives me a quick demonstration. “You should be able to manage. I’ll show you how to use it properly later.”
He takes the safety off his own gun and walks toward the door. “Lock it, Shay.”
I follow him to the door, locking it as soon as he disappears. I look at the gun in my hand and cringe. Could I shoot it? If I had to, yes, I think I could. What if they hurt Vinnie? Or killed him. What would I do? What if he needed me? If he is outnumbered . . . But he told me to stay here. I’d probably just be a liability. I pace up and down the room with the gun held awkwardly in my hands, contemplating what to do. I strain to hear something from downstairs, but it’s silent. I unlock the door without making a noise, open it, and stick my head out.
When I hear a man’s deep chuckle, I think I should go down. I mean, what could be funny about this situation? Unless Vinnie is dead and someone is laughing over his body. It isn’t Vinnie’s laugh—that I’d recognize. I hear murmured words and decide to just head downstairs to see what is going on. If Vinnie is dead, they’d find me anyway. Hiding upstairs in a locked room wasn’t going to save me; they could open the door with one kick.
“Pretty sure I told you to stay in the room,” Vinnie says quietly, his eyes pinning me the second my toe touches the bottom step.
“Oh, so you’re not dead,” I point out, holding the gun awkwardly by my side. I look at the man standing next to Vinnie. In his leather cut covered in patches, his large, muscled build and his mean, yet somehow handsome-looking bearded face, the man isn’t someone I’d want to mess with. It is his shrewd brown eyes that have me wanting to hide behind Vinnie though.
“Don’t sound so happy about it,” Vinnie grumbles, nodding his head toward the man standing next to him. “Shay, this is my brother Arrow. Arrow, this is Shay.”