Busted (Barnes Brothers #3) (25 page)

BOOK: Busted (Barnes Brothers #3)
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She practically melted against him, some of that tension draining out of her body. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her back against him. Lust bit into him as her butt pressed up against his cock, but he gritted his teeth, forced himself to think past the need.

“Ressa,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice was unsteady as she answered. “Nothing. Nothing is wrong.”

She was lying. He knew it.

As she turned in his arms, he studied her face, saw the darkness in her gaze, the misery. “Talk to me,” he said, rubbing his lips against hers. “You look like your world is coming apart.”

“No.” She curled her arms around his neck, leaning against him. “I just . . .”

She leaned in, licked his lips.

Groaning, he gripped her hips, tried to ease back. “Ressa, wait . . .”

“No. You’re right. It’s been too long. I need you.”

He clung to sanity by his fingernails. “Where’s Neeci?”

“In her bed. Asleep. Nothing wakes that child once she’s down,” Ressa said, pressing her mouth to his neck. He felt the hot brush of her lips against his skin. She spoke again, and this time, her words were a plea. “Make love to me. I need this.”

He couldn’t have denied her anything in that moment.

“Your room . . . Where is your room?”

She waved toward the stairs and the two of them half staggered, half ran toward them. Halfway up, he took her down and pressed her to the steps, feasting on her mouth and shuddering at the taste, the feel of her. Thoughts of regret, fear, hesitation faded away. Thoughts of
control
faded away.

He cupped her hips in his hands, her skin burning hot through the thin material. Against his chest, her breasts went
flat and that was good, but not enough. He caught the tank top she wore and started to drag it up.

She caught his wrist.

“Upstairs.” She bit his lower lip and then said it again, the demand heavy in her voice. “Upstairs . . .
now
.”

He caught her around the waist, and rose, one hand around the bannister. He felt half drunk—drunk on her. Pinning her against the railing, he said, “Upstairs.”

Then he returned the favor and bit her lip, reveling in the feel of her reaction, a full body shudder.

It seemed forever before they finally reached the top of the stairs, even longer before they stumbled into the room Ressa pointed out.
Finally

Trey spun, trapping her against the door. A startled gasp erupted from her as he caught the band of her sport bra in his hands. He would have torn it away from her if he could and he was cursing by the time he was able to toss it to the floor.

Her full breasts swung free and he caught them in his hands, hunger a spike in his brain. He teased dark brown nipples, already drawn tight.

“Kiss me,” she demanded, locking her fingers around his neck.

He didn’t even have a chance to follow that hungry order because she tugged his mouth to hers, kissing him with a greedy need all but put him on his knees. Tongue and teeth clashed. Her breasts pressed flat against him and it was a sweet, sweet torture . . . but
still
not enough. He broke the kiss to tear his own shirt away and then grunted in pleasure at the feel of their upper bodies pressed bare to each other.

She rubbed herself against him and he shuddered, feeling the drag of her nipples over his skin. Ressa moaned out his name and it sent a tremor racing through him. His fingers tightened on her and he had to force himself to be gentle, but even as he tried to do that, she sank her teeth into his lip, hard enough to bring pain. He did the same and she moaned into his mouth and arched her hips to his.

Desperate for more, for all, he shoved his hands inside the waistband of her tight workout pants, working himself against the heat between her thighs, but still—
not enough
.

She whimpered as he went to his knees, jerking her pants down. When they tangled at her calves, he stopped and leaned in, pressing his face to her cleft. Soft curls hid her from him, but that didn’t deter him. He flicked his tongue against her clit and when she bucked against him, satisfaction ripped at him.

The scent of her rushed up to flood the air and he thought he just might go mad for the want of her. He stripped the pants away and used his hands to tug at her ankles until she widened her legs.

“I need to taste you,” he muttered. Taste. Have. Love . . .

Love . . .

The thought should frighten him.

Everything in this moment should frighten him—or at least worry him, because he felt too out of control, scrabbling for any remnant of it. But all that mattered was having her. Branding himself on her . . . and having
her
brand herself on
him
.

Leaning in, he licked her, using his tongue to open her before going deeper, hungry strokes that had her rocking against his face.

She panted out his name, her hands clutching the back of his head. “Please . . . I want . . . I need . . .”

When she tried to pull at his shoulders, he caught one wrist, guided it away.

“Stop,” he muttered. “I need this. I need to taste you . . . your pussy, fuck . . .”

A broken sound left her throat and he looked up, saw her eyes flare wide and then she tugged him back. “Do it then. Put your mouth on me.”

She was slick and hot, and getting hotter, slicker with every minute as he licked at her. He shifted to close his mouth around her clit, sucking at it gently, then harder as her nails bit into his shoulders and her broken moans turned to breathy, desperate cries.

Sliding his hand between her legs, he tucked two fingers against her entrance, felt her tense. Then, slowly, he screwed them in.

She tightened around him and he felt her muscles grip and clutch and grab—

He paused, taking a moment to lick at her clit before he
looked up. “When you start to come, I’m going to stop. I’m going to be inside you.”

“Damn right,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

His cock pulsed, throbbed, demanding he be inside her
now
.

But . . . no. Not yet.

Another taste. Another slow stroke of his fingers inside her. She moaned, her sheath tightening—

Again.

Again—

She bucked and he felt it coming on. Shoving to his feet, he pulled out one of the condoms he’d brought with him. She moaned, her hips rolling in a circle like she already had him inside her. His fingers trembled as he tore the foil open and they trembled even more when he fumbled with his jeans.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

He looked up at her, saw how her eyes had all but gone blind.

I’m not taking my time.

Condom on, he leaned in, pressed two fingers against her and rubbed. “Are you still there?”

She bucked against his hand. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

He did one slow circle around her clit as he answered. “Yes. I want you as crazy as you’ve made me, as hungry, as mindless.”

For a moment, she just stared at him and then a Mona Lisa smile curved her lips. “Well, then fuck me already, because I’m going out of my mind.”

He caught her legs behind the knees, lifted her, her back braced against the door. Without another word, without even another breath, he pushed inside, shuddering as she wrapped around him, drawing him deeper, deeper . . .

*   *   *

Ressa gasped as he stroked deep inside. Filling her . . . her body, her heart, her soul.

Even as her heart and soul felt like they’d shatter.

No man ever had consumed her as totally as he had. It scared her, too, because she knew what that meant. He owned
so much of her, without even asking, and that meant he could break her—without even trying.

That terror had her shoving her hands into his hair, drawing his mouth to hers. Desperation had her rocking to meet every thrust, kissing him like she feared this might be the last time, the very last.

I don’t want to lose you . . .

The thought of it terrified her.

His teeth nipped her lower lip right before he tore his mouth away and buried his face in her hair. His hips surged against hers, swiveled. Deep inside, she felt his cock swell, the head of it rubbing against her in a way that left her feeling like she’d somehow explode, even as her skin started to feel too tight, too hot. There wasn’t enough room inside her to contain this—

She slammed her head against the door, barely noticing the pain as sensation swamped her. “I . . . damn it, it’s too . . .” Her lids drifted down and she tried to gather up the pieces of herself that tried to scatter.

Trey reached up, cradling the back of her head. “Stay with me,” he ordered, his voice harsh, rough. “Look at me.”

She stared into eyes so blue, it hurt to look at them. He rubbed his mouth against hers, whispered, “I need you.”

Too much. A sob welled inside her as he slowed his thrusts, that driving hunger falling away into devastating gentleness. No, no, no . . . the hunger was better, easier to lose herself to . . .

Trey flicked his tongue along her lips and she opened for him. He shifted position on her body, gathering her in closer, lifting her higher, and she shuddered as he started to drag his body back and forth against her clitoris with every stroke.

A scream built inside her and she swallowed it down, digging her nails into his skin instead, clutching at his hips with her knees. The swollen head of his cock pulsed as he twisted and pushed into her again, harder, deeper, but so devastatingly slow—

She shattered with the next stroke and he went mad, as though he’d been waiting for just that before he let go. As she gasped and shuddered under the force of her orgasm, he snarled, his body going tight, muscles rippling as he thrust deep, once,
twice—then again, again . . . harder each time until he shoved her, unbelievably, into another, more powerful orgasm.

He growled her name just before his mouth caught hers in a deep, drugging kiss.

*   *   *

He would move.

At some point.

Back braced against the door, Ressa lying half sprawled, half draped over him, Trey knew he couldn’t stay on that miserable, hard floor for too long, but for that moment, he was just fine. More relaxed than he could remember feeling in too long, and if he had his way, he’d talk her into letting him stay for a while, and he might end up even more relaxed.

Ressa was limp in his arms. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She sighed, curling one arm around him, hugging him tighter. He worked up the energy to look at her, but she had her eyes closed.

“I’ll move. In a minute. Ten tops.”

“I was thinking in an hour,” she said, her voice rough.

“That sounds good, too.” He kept studying her, hoping she’d look at him. He wanted to see her eyes.

She just traced her fingers along the tattoo on his lower abdomen, a slightly ticklish sensation. It made his skin prickle and even that light touch had his body stirring. He could see himself flipping her onto her back, sliding between her thighs, burying his dick inside her, but for now . . .

All he wanted was this.

This very moment.

*   *   *

“You didn’t call tonight.”

The minute she said it, she wanted to jerk it back. She was still half-sprawled against him and her body ached in the sweetest way, and instead of inviting him to her bed, instead of pressing her mouth to his neck, then moving down, instead of doing any number of wonderful things, she had to go and say that.

The last thing she wanted to do was sound like a needy, desperate woman. Except she felt terribly needy and desperate right now.

Trey
had
texted her. She could have called him back, except she’d been too busy letting her cousin mess her head up. Again.

But the words were already out, hanging there between them and there was nothing she could say or do to unsay the words.

All Trey did was skim a hand down her side. “I . . . uh . . . well, you probably need to be prepared for this kind of thing if you’re going to get involved with a writer. We don’t always live on planet Earth. I kind of got lost in another world and didn’t surface until after seven. Travis was there to take care of Clayton and . . .” He shrugged. “It was the first time I’ve been able to lose myself like that in a while. I was going to call but they were watching a movie and Clayton . . .”

Now she felt like a pathetic loser. She’d been feeling sorry for herself and brooding, while he was simply spending some time with his brother and his son. “Hush. I just . . . I missed you. I should have called you. Nothing was stopping me.”

Except the fact that I’m a mess.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you. I sent you that text, but you didn’t answer and I thought, hey, I could always call tomorrow. But then I . . . well. I wanted to see you.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. That simple caress made her heart melt. “I miss you. Seeing you a couple of times a week doesn’t feel like enough.”

It made her heart melt a little.

At the same time, it made her heart break a little.

Because she remembered why she hadn’t texted.

And the fear that had rushed through her when she’d seen him at the door. She’d thought he was here because Travis had dug into her family’s past, that Trey knew.

She’d kept this from him. She couldn’t anymore. Once she dropped this on him, would he feel comfortable watching Neeci? Oh, he’d probably do it, because he was just that kind of guy. But she wouldn’t ask him.

She could already imagine what would happen—she’d seen
it play out several times once it had happened with a guy she’d really cared about.

Nobody had ever mattered as much as Trey.

But she couldn’t put it off anymore.

I have to tell him.

Tucking her head against his shoulder, she barely managed to keep from clutching at him, holding tight.

“Can I stay?” Trey murmured, unaware of the nerves already tangling inside her. “At least for a while.”

She swallowed. It didn’t keep her voice from being husky when she answered, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

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