Read Online Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott - Free Book Online
Authors: Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott
Ads: Link
her waist and clung to her her spectacular ass. Extremely un gentlemanly behavior was imminent if I didn’t collect myself. But when she twisted the material of my shirt and slipped under the little gape in my leathers that she’d created, it was on.
I filled my hand with her cheek and her breath puffed out a little faster. She felt firm and giving at the same time. A woman’s body. Not the too-skinny types who littered LA. Ones that didn’t eat, but didn’t work out either.
No, she was the kind that could curl around me in the night and never make me feel like I was banging a bag of bones.
I dragged her against me. I couldn’t hide my reaction.
I didn’t really want to.
It had been a damn long time since I’d touched anyone who made me forget myself. Forget my surroundings. Even more importantly, forget that there could be a million cameras. For fuck’s sake, she was the camera.
I wanted to taste her more than I cared about any self-preservation instinct.
I touched the tip of my tongue to her lower lip. Watermelon gloss infused my taste buds, flooding my mouth in reaction. I swallowed hard.
She didn’t move.
Her fingers dug into my side, but still she didn’t initiate or reciprocate. I practically bore holes into her lower lip with the force of my stare. I brushed my lower lip against hers.
Again, no reaction.
I glanced up to meet her wide blue eyes. She was frozen.
I molded my hand along her ass, bringing my other hand into the fray. I wanted to drag her along my shaft, and watch her go over “Are you with me, Bettie? Do you want me to find my gentleman card?”
Her breath puffed against my mouth.
“I can find it. It’s here somewhere. Perhaps under your towel on the flagstone.”
Her breath stuttered out with a groan when I pulsed her lower half against my aching cock.
“Tell me you want this or I’ll step back.” I flicked my tongue along the little divot of her upper lip. I wanted to cover her mouth—to swallow any hesitation—but something told me to wait her out.
I rolled my hips against hers and her nails dug half moons into my skin. I’d wear her marks gladly if she’d just give me a sign.
Tentatively, she met the tip of my tongue with her own. A light touch that was more butterfly flutter than active participation.
It was all that I needed.
I moved one hand up to the back of her neck. Her hair was surprisingly springy, then cornsilk soft at her nape. I’d always equated kissing with games. A little bit of tag, followed by a getting-to-know-you stage. Some women liked a teasing kiss, some wanted it carnal, and still others wanted it a messy clash of teeth and groans. I was proficient at all of them.
I even made a sport out of a good kiss.
Bettie decimated any former knowledge I’d cultivated.
Hesitation was replaced with a slow glide of tongues and lips. She sighed into my mouth as if she was a long lost lover. No bumping noses and clicking teeth. We turned and twisted in a sweet symphony with a slow build. A quickening of breath kicked my pulse into pound as she lifted her arm to curl around my shoulder. The wet triangles of her bikini burned through the silks of my vest and shirt.
Those short nails skimmed my neck then moved up to cup the back of my head. I didn’t really have a lot of control over what I did next. The go light had switched on and I lifted her off her toes.
She moaned into my mouth as her knee hooked around the back of my thigh. I stumbled back toward the bench, then into the cove where we started. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t be passive.
Not with her alive in my arms.
My coat flapped around us as I tried to prop her up against the craggy wall. She turned us just before. My shoulders cracked against the cove.
I grunted, but didn’t break the kiss.
She jerked at my coat until it came off.
Until she was simply long golden legs wrapped around my hips. Her knees pressed into to my sides, and her grip transferred to the rocks beside my head. Blue
I filled my hand with her cheek and her breath puffed out a little faster. She felt firm and giving at the same time. A woman’s body. Not the too-skinny types who littered LA. Ones that didn’t eat, but didn’t work out either.
No, she was the kind that could curl around me in the night and never make me feel like I was banging a bag of bones.
I dragged her against me. I couldn’t hide my reaction.
I didn’t really want to.
It had been a damn long time since I’d touched anyone who made me forget myself. Forget my surroundings. Even more importantly, forget that there could be a million cameras. For fuck’s sake, she was the camera.
I wanted to taste her more than I cared about any self-preservation instinct.
I touched the tip of my tongue to her lower lip. Watermelon gloss infused my taste buds, flooding my mouth in reaction. I swallowed hard.
She didn’t move.
Her fingers dug into my side, but still she didn’t initiate or reciprocate. I practically bore holes into her lower lip with the force of my stare. I brushed my lower lip against hers.
Again, no reaction.
I glanced up to meet her wide blue eyes. She was frozen.
I molded my hand along her ass, bringing my other hand into the fray. I wanted to drag her along my shaft, and watch her go over “Are you with me, Bettie? Do you want me to find my gentleman card?”
Her breath puffed against my mouth.
“I can find it. It’s here somewhere. Perhaps under your towel on the flagstone.”
Her breath stuttered out with a groan when I pulsed her lower half against my aching cock.
“Tell me you want this or I’ll step back.” I flicked my tongue along the little divot of her upper lip. I wanted to cover her mouth—to swallow any hesitation—but something told me to wait her out.
I rolled my hips against hers and her nails dug half moons into my skin. I’d wear her marks gladly if she’d just give me a sign.
Tentatively, she met the tip of my tongue with her own. A light touch that was more butterfly flutter than active participation.
It was all that I needed.
I moved one hand up to the back of her neck. Her hair was surprisingly springy, then cornsilk soft at her nape. I’d always equated kissing with games. A little bit of tag, followed by a getting-to-know-you stage. Some women liked a teasing kiss, some wanted it carnal, and still others wanted it a messy clash of teeth and groans. I was proficient at all of them.
I even made a sport out of a good kiss.
Bettie decimated any former knowledge I’d cultivated.
Hesitation was replaced with a slow glide of tongues and lips. She sighed into my mouth as if she was a long lost lover. No bumping noses and clicking teeth. We turned and twisted in a sweet symphony with a slow build. A quickening of breath kicked my pulse into pound as she lifted her arm to curl around my shoulder. The wet triangles of her bikini burned through the silks of my vest and shirt.
Those short nails skimmed my neck then moved up to cup the back of my head. I didn’t really have a lot of control over what I did next. The go light had switched on and I lifted her off her toes.
She moaned into my mouth as her knee hooked around the back of my thigh. I stumbled back toward the bench, then into the cove where we started. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t be passive.
Not with her alive in my arms.
My coat flapped around us as I tried to prop her up against the craggy wall. She turned us just before. My shoulders cracked against the cove.
I grunted, but didn’t break the kiss.
She jerked at my coat until it came off.
Until she was simply long golden legs wrapped around my hips. Her knees pressed into to my sides, and her grip transferred to the rocks beside my head. Blue
Similar Books
