My back hit the rough brick, and he lifted my other wrist above my head, keeping it trapped in his strong grip. His free hand went to my waist and made me arch—made my body mold to every hard, unyielding inch of his. He moaned into my mouth and kissed me harder until the back of my head ground into the wall.
His erection pressed against my front, and I wanted it inside me. I wanted him inside me—my body, my mind, my soul. I wanted him to consume every fiber of my being until all I could see, hear, smell was Hendrix Hawthorn. Until I forgot everything and everyone and there was only him.
It was exactly what I came here for—to forget, to lose myself in something for a little while . . . but part of me bristled at the fact that it was with him. Why was my body responding to his more than it had to any other man in the past? I’d been fighting to keep command of the Hendrix situation for weeks. Now here he was, smashing through my careful control with one mind-shattering kiss?
I took his bottom lip into my mouth and sucked. Then I took it between my teeth and bit.
He hissed and pulled away, another bolt of lightning throwing his confused expression into sharp relief.
Some of the heady weight of his body on mine lifted, and he released my wrist. But I didn’t like that either. Fuck, I had no idea what I wanted with this infuriating son of a bitch. And I hated it.
Before he could completely back away, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. The thunder rumbled, so close now that the ground under my boots vibrated.
Hendrix growled too, his own thunder rumbling through his chest. I could taste his blood on my lips, the metallic flavor as distinct as the need coursing through my body.
He broke the kiss again and shook his head, breathing hard.
I gripped his T-shirt, my body clinging to his even as my mind screamed. “If you want to go, go! See if I care!”
“Listen.” He licked his lips. “I’m not into this rape fantasy bullshit. If you want me inside you, I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”
I blinked. I was not expecting that. Not once had any man I’d had dirty sex with bothered to check if I was enjoying myself. They didn’t give a shit, and I didn’t even care enough to learn their names. That was the whole appeal of the situation—I was using them as much as they were using me, and the edge of danger that came with the unknown, the uncertainty, was intoxicating.
Why the fuck did Hendrix even care? “You are such a pussy. You’re killing the mood.”
He watched me for a beat, shadows falling over his face, then pushed himself off the wall.
I didn’t doubt for a second he would leave. My hand shot to his belt to stop him. “What do you want, an engraved invitation into my cunt?”
Usually, men were surprised to hear such a filthy word coming out of my mouth, but Hendrix didn’t even falter. “Any form of explicit consent will do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, would you just fuck me already?”
“Is that what you’d like?” I could hear the smirk in his voice. The lightning that flashed a second later let me see it too. I wanted to sit on that smug face and ride it so he’d shut the fuck up already.
“Yes,” I gritted out.
“That’ll do.” He’d barely said the words before he was on me again, reaching behind my neck to pull on the bow that held my halter top in place.
The two pieces of shimmery fabric fell away, and he palmed my breasts. He didn’t take it slow or explore—just grabbed two firm handfuls of my flesh and kneaded, his thumbs teasing my nipples.
I threw my head back against the brick and moaned into the night as Hendrix started kissing and licking at the sensitive spot on my neck.
A drop of water hit my cheek, and my eyes opened in confusion just as another landed on my forehead. Another rumble of thunder reminded me a storm was rolling in, but then Hendrix took one of my nipples into his mouth, making me forget everything.
He teased me with his mouth before pulling away again.
“Do you have a condom?” His breath was hot on my cheek as his hips gyrated against mine.
“Huh?” It took a moment for his words to register. “Yes, in my . . . fuck. No. You chased biker dude off with them all.” I groaned.
“Shit.” Hendrix planted a hand on either side of my head and pressed his forehead to mine, sighing deeply.
I ran my hands down his front. He felt so good under my touch, his muscles coiled, his T-shirt getting damp from the softly falling rain. I liked to flirt with danger, but I wasn’t stupid. I never fucked anyone without a condom. But Hendrix wasn’t one of the degenerates I usually hooked up with. He was . . . I didn’t want to think about what he was to me in that moment. I just wanted to get off with him.
“It’s raining anyway . . .” He let one hand drop to his side, inching his body away.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and licked the rain off the side of his neck. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?”
I felt him swallow under my lips. “Honestly, I don’t know. Haven’t been tested. And I’m not willing to take the chance. No offence, but I don’t know where that thing has been.”
White hot rage coursed through me almost as intensely as desire. I bit his neck, and he yelped, pushing me away by the hips.
“Offence taken, asshole.” I scowled at him.
It was too dark to really see, but I could’ve sworn he looked amused, and his hands were still on my hips.
“Did you just bite me?” He chuckled. “Under that perfect princess mask, you’re just a feral animal, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Whatever. I wanna get off, and if you’re not game, then get lost so I can get on with my night.” His rejection was starting to sting, and if I couldn’t have him, I wasn’t really in the mood to pick someone else up. I really hoped he wouldn’t walk away from me—because I couldn’t seem to make myself walk away from him.
He licked his lips, collecting some of the rain that was dripping down his face. Droplets fell from the tip of his nose, trailed down his neck. I wanted to lick every single one.
Just as I was about to cover my boobs back up and try to gather enough pride to walk away, he spoke.
“If the guys you’ve been with think the only way to get a woman off is with their cocks, I feel really bad for you—you must’ve been having some mediocre sex.”
Before I could throw a witty response back at him, his strong hands were shoving my hips around so I was facing the wall. He pushed forward, his front flush with my back, and I had to throw my hands up against the brick to keep my balance. A shot of adrenaline raced down my spine, amping up the lust. I had no idea what he was about to do to me, and I loved it. This was exactly what I needed, what I craved.
He kicked my feet a little farther apart, then gripped the back of my neck.
I practically melted at his touch, my very being diluted in the steady rain and his intoxicating presence.
He trailed his hand down the rain-slick skin of my back, and then both hands were at my hips, dipping lower, down my thighs. When he reached the hem of my skirt, the heat of his body disappeared as he stepped away slightly—as his hands moved under the fabric and up my legs. He traced his thumbs along the underside of my ass before dragging his palms over it to cop a good feel. His fingers went all the way to my lower back, then back down, and he laughed softly.