straight up rather than out, which was freaky, but once she was seated, the luxury and comfort came through.
Although Stone’s car could blow Joe’s away in speed, Stone exercised control behind the wheel. He kept to no more than ten miles over the speed limit, but Tielle still enjoyed watching the way his muscles shifted and bulged as he turned the steering wheel and shifted gears.
“I guess you have no side effects to what you went through the other night?” she asked.
“None. As I said, I just needed a little time.”
“You could have injured yourself further by yanking out the IV. This isn’t the movies, you know.”
“Yes.”
She peered at him through her lashes. “So what are you compensating for with all this power?” She gestured to the car.
Stone laughed. “Compensating? Ah, you mean is my flute inadequate.”
She frowned. “Flute?”
He winked. “I assure you my cock is more than enough to satisfy you.”
Tielle almost melted through the chair. She tried to pretend his use of raw language didn’t have an effect on her, but she had a feeling she failed in the worst way. Biting on a finger while pressing her legs together, she stared out the window. Stone’s chuckle pissed her off, but it wasn’t his fault her body sang for his touch. Maybe it was his fault. She checked out his thighs, firm behind his dark slacks. She wondered if he was hairy or if he was tanned under his clothing.
How she loved a white man’s body. She’d dated black men, white ones, even one Chinese, and of course Joe who was half Puerto Rican, but there was something about a white man that was so sexy. His creamy light skin in comparison to her deep chocolate made Tielle want to lick him from head to toe—and she’d done that on many occasions. That’s why Joe had said she was good in bed. Tielle loved sex, and she wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted when the circumstances were right.
“Says you,” she quipped. “I’ve heard that claim so many times. I even met a man who told me he was ten inches and found he was closer to four and a half. Not that size is everything.” She eyed him and was surprised at how he leaned back a little, comfortable with his body. The man was rock hard, the tent in his pants scary big.
At her apartment, he let her go ahead of him, and she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Tossing her keys on a side table, she called over her shoulder, “Would you like something to drink?” Her shoes which seemed to pop off her feet every time she hit home, were left beside the couch, and she padded barefoot into the kitchen. Stone followed close behind. He had no compunctions about exploring her ass while he was back there. She glared at him but didn’t tell him to keep his hands to himself.
“If you have wine, that would be nice,” he commented.
Tielle took down the wine glasses from the cabinet over the sink and removed a bottle of wine she’d had chilling from the refrigerator. She poured the two of them some while Stone rested his hip against her counter. Her hands shook a little with him so close, his gaze intense. No man had unsettled her this much, and that Stone was doing just that made her even more nervous.
To get his attention off of her, she said, “How about something to eat? I’m not hungry since I had dinner, but what about you?”
He shrugged. “I could eat.” The look he gave her indicated something far different from food. Tielle brushed from her mind the thought of him with is head tucked between her thighs. Instead, she spun to search her tiny kitchen for anything she could whip up with ease. Domestic skills were low on her list of abilities.
“I’m not the world’s best, but I do make a mean omelet. I usually add swiss cheese, peppers, and onions. Does that sound appetizing?” She peeked at him. He appeared ravenous. “Just who are you, Stone Hughes?”
His eyes widened, and she noted the way he stiffened. “How do you know my last
Although Stone’s car could blow Joe’s away in speed, Stone exercised control behind the wheel. He kept to no more than ten miles over the speed limit, but Tielle still enjoyed watching the way his muscles shifted and bulged as he turned the steering wheel and shifted gears.
“I guess you have no side effects to what you went through the other night?” she asked.
“None. As I said, I just needed a little time.”
“You could have injured yourself further by yanking out the IV. This isn’t the movies, you know.”
“Yes.”
She peered at him through her lashes. “So what are you compensating for with all this power?” She gestured to the car.
Stone laughed. “Compensating? Ah, you mean is my flute inadequate.”
She frowned. “Flute?”
He winked. “I assure you my cock is more than enough to satisfy you.”
Tielle almost melted through the chair. She tried to pretend his use of raw language didn’t have an effect on her, but she had a feeling she failed in the worst way. Biting on a finger while pressing her legs together, she stared out the window. Stone’s chuckle pissed her off, but it wasn’t his fault her body sang for his touch. Maybe it was his fault. She checked out his thighs, firm behind his dark slacks. She wondered if he was hairy or if he was tanned under his clothing.
How she loved a white man’s body. She’d dated black men, white ones, even one Chinese, and of course Joe who was half Puerto Rican, but there was something about a white man that was so sexy. His creamy light skin in comparison to her deep chocolate made Tielle want to lick him from head to toe—and she’d done that on many occasions. That’s why Joe had said she was good in bed. Tielle loved sex, and she wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted when the circumstances were right.
“Says you,” she quipped. “I’ve heard that claim so many times. I even met a man who told me he was ten inches and found he was closer to four and a half. Not that size is everything.” She eyed him and was surprised at how he leaned back a little, comfortable with his body. The man was rock hard, the tent in his pants scary big.
At her apartment, he let her go ahead of him, and she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Tossing her keys on a side table, she called over her shoulder, “Would you like something to drink?” Her shoes which seemed to pop off her feet every time she hit home, were left beside the couch, and she padded barefoot into the kitchen. Stone followed close behind. He had no compunctions about exploring her ass while he was back there. She glared at him but didn’t tell him to keep his hands to himself.
“If you have wine, that would be nice,” he commented.
Tielle took down the wine glasses from the cabinet over the sink and removed a bottle of wine she’d had chilling from the refrigerator. She poured the two of them some while Stone rested his hip against her counter. Her hands shook a little with him so close, his gaze intense. No man had unsettled her this much, and that Stone was doing just that made her even more nervous.
To get his attention off of her, she said, “How about something to eat? I’m not hungry since I had dinner, but what about you?”
He shrugged. “I could eat.” The look he gave her indicated something far different from food. Tielle brushed from her mind the thought of him with is head tucked between her thighs. Instead, she spun to search her tiny kitchen for anything she could whip up with ease. Domestic skills were low on her list of abilities.
“I’m not the world’s best, but I do make a mean omelet. I usually add swiss cheese, peppers, and onions. Does that sound appetizing?” She peeked at him. He appeared ravenous. “Just who are you, Stone Hughes?”
His eyes widened, and she noted the way he stiffened. “How do you know my last
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