He saved the pictures and sent them to just her. In a private text. And then he laid back down and rested his hands on his stomach, staring at the ceiling.
When his phone lit up on the nightstand, he frowned at it. Cheyenne was awake and putting heart reactions on every picture he’d sent.
Can’t sleep? she asked.
His stupid heartrate kicked up like he was about to buck in front of a crowd.
I don’t sleep so good before events.
She was typing, but stopped. Typing. Stopped.
And then she didn’t respond at all.
Crap.
He got up and paced in front of the bed. Maybe she’d just fallen asleep. Or maybe he’d made her uncomfortable? He should just go check on her. Maybe sit by her door and make sure everything was okay. Maybe just knock and apologize for the middle-of-the-night texts.
No.
Be cool.
Just lay in bed. Yep.
He laid down and rested his hands on his stomach again. “Relax,” he muttered out loud. “You can chase her again tomorrow.” He laid there for all of three seconds and then got back up and headed for the door. “Nah, let’s chase her tonight.”
Chapter Twelve
Cheyenne padded down the hallway, half nervous, half excited.
She would just help him get to sleep and then she would go back to her room and get a few more hours of rest before she had to be up for the day.
She pushed the elevator button.
He was only two tiny floors below her, probably lying in bed, staring at the ceiling—
Ding.
She looked up at the opening elevator doors and froze.
Two Shots stood there, tall, flexed up, chest heaving, no shirt, gray sweatpants riding low on his waist. His eyes were the color of night, and his fists were clenched at his sides.
There was this loaded moment when time froze, and she stayed ensnared in his hungry gaze.
He stepped out of the elevator and wrapped her up in his arms. That was the only way she could describe it. His arms went around her just as she reached for him, and his lips crashed onto hers. They went straight back to the wall, and her shoulders hit hard. His lips were all over hers, moving with her mouth and, God, the taste of him. The feel of him. The warmth, the strength, the utter confidence he had when he touched her.
The kiss was desperate. Hungry. She could barely breathe under the weight of him, but she didn’t care.
He pulled away so suddenly she pitched forward, but he caught her hand and kept her steady, tugged her toward her room. Did he know which room?
He huffed a breath and turned on her, and then so fast she could barely comprehend his movement, he hoisted her over his shoulder and walked to her room, shoved open the door she’d left propped open by the chain lock, and let it close behind them with a click.
When he pitched her onto the bed, she yelped as she landed. The bed was soft and caught her, but then he was crawling over her body, tugging at her panties from under her oversize sleep shirt.
“Tell me this is a bad idea, and I’ll stop,” he growled.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
“Tell me we’re wrong for wanting each other.”
“We’re not wrong,” she gritted out.
“Tell me to slow down, or I’ll make you mine right fuckin’ now, Cheyenne.”
She pursed her lips and refused to give him that order.
He yanked her little pink panties off her ankles and threw them on the floor, then laid his weight on top of her, his hand sliding up her shirt. His hand was so warm, so strong, so sexy against her breast, and then his lips were on hers again. God, she was burning! Burning from the inside out as if he were setting her soul on fire.
She ran her nails up the back of his hair and held him closer. That set off more fires. He let off a soft rumbling sound against her lips that couldn’t pass for human. Sexy man. Sexy creature. Sexy monster.
He rolled her onto her side and pulled her tight against his body. Damn, he was strong. So much stronger than he’d let on. His fingers dug into her hip as he rolled against her. His erection was hard and swollen against her belly, and she wanted him more than she’d wanted anything in her life. Needed him inside her.
With fumbling fingers, she untied the string at his waist and pushed his pants down to his thighs.
“Good,” he rumbled against her lips, his hands finding her tits again.
She moaned and bowed back against his touch. His lips drifted to her exposed throat, and she was losing it. This was too fast, but she didn’t want to slow down. She wanted him to take her exactly how he wanted to. Set her on fire, she didn’t care about anything else right now.
He pulled the shirt over her head and looked at her body. This was the moment, right? It was the moment she was supposed to wonder if he liked the way she looked. She didn’t have to. The slow, predatory, thirsty smile that stretched his face told her he liked her body just fine. He arched her back and pulled her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, held his hair so he would stay there. He lapped at her, over and over, until she was moaning his name.
“Good,” he rumbled again.
She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at his head as he pulled her other nipple into his mouth and took care of it in the same way. God, it was so sexy, watching his head bob back and forth as he sucked on her sensitive nub.
She pulled him back by his hair, reveled in the wicked gleam of his eyes as he locked her in his gaze.
“My turn,” she said, feeling braver than she ever had.
She pushed him onto his back and crawled down, positioned herself between his legs and smiled at him as she pulled her sleep shirt over her head. The cool breeze from the air conditioner felt so good against her naked skin. Cheyenne tossed the shirt and grabbed his swollen shaft.
“Fuuuuuck, woman, do you know how sexy you are?”
And she felt it. She felt sexy for the first time in… When was the last time? When had she ever felt so comfortable, so confident in a bedroom? Never.
She leaned over and slid her mouth over the head of his cock, teased him with her tongue. The groan he let off as he drew up his knees was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. He arched back, and this felt like power. His hand went to her hair, and he pushed her down gently, then pulled her up, pushed, pulled, teaching her his pace.
His breathing was already ragged, and when she looked up at him, his eyes were intent on her. His lips were slightly parted, and he tensed every time she slid her mouth down onto him. Three more strokes, and he pulled her off. Easing her back, he positioned himself between her legs and gripped her wrists above her head.
She was on the edge of the bed, her head leaning half off it, exposing her tender throat to his biting kisses again.
He rolled his hips, and she could feel it—the hard, thick head of his cock right there, pressing against her wet sex. He eased in shallowly, then back out, back in deeper. His teeth were on her neck, and when she turned her head to the side, she could see them in the mirrored closet doors. She watched him as he pushed her knees farther apart and bucked deep into her, filling her, stretching her. She arched her back and groaned at how good it felt, closed her eyes to the world and just existed. Just felt. Just let him drag her body to the top of a roller coaster and then rode with him as he dragged her back down. He slid into her so deep, over and over, so smooth, drawing out every second of satisfaction.