Hooked by Love (Bellevue Bullies #3) Read online

  Man, he feels so good.

  So thick.

  So big.

  “Trouble,” he murmurs against my lips. “You’re fucking trouble.”

  I grin against his lips, my fingers sliding into his hair as I stop. “Want me to quit?”

  “Never,” he says gruffly. “But I want to know why you doubt my player game. I should let you know, I’m a big deal.”

  My lips curve. “I have no doubt, but you’re not a player.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “How many people have you slept with?”

  His brow quirks, his eyes locked on mine. “Why?”

  “Proving a point.”

  “Fine, seven.”

  “And you’re what? Nineteen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If you were a player, it’d be much higher.”

  “Maybe I’m just getting started.”

  “Sure, but then you wouldn’t care that there were no sheets on the bed or that I wanted the lights off. You would have fucked me anywhere, and with no cares. But you took the time, not only to please me, but to make sure I was comfortable.”

  “Hm,” is his answer and I smile at that.

  “You’re a wannabe player, and honestly, I don’t think you’re up for the game.”

  That has him scoffing at me. “Really?”

  “Yeah, you’re too good. You have a good heart, but you’re cocky and think you have to prove something, but you don’t.”

  “This coming from someone who has known me for maybe five minutes.”

  “Um, it’s at least an hour, thank you. And I can read people, which is why it wasn’t hard to get me into bed. I knew I wanted you, and I won’t lie, there was a moment when I wanted out. But you looked at me, and I knew if I asked, you’d let me go.”

  “I would,” he promises. “I wouldn’t force anything on you.”

  “Because you’re no player. I’ve seen bad, believe me. The wickedest of the wicked, and you’re not that. You’re a good dude, one who loves sex and women, and who I am to hate on that?”

  Moving his hands up my back, he threads his fingers in my hair, bringing me down until our noses mash together. “I see only one woman right now who I want to have sex with.”

  I grin, our breath becoming one. “Just remember I don’t do relationships.”

  “Because of the wickedest of the wicked players you’ve come across?”

  “Exactly,” I say to his teasing tone, my hands coming up his chest. “Plus, you don’t want that. You have goals, plans, and I wouldn’t fit into that.”

  His eyes lock with mine and I can’t move. The lights outside are going mad, lightening his face every second. His look is so intense, so beautiful, almost as if he is thinking I could fit into his plan. But then, that’s insane. He can’t be thinking that.

  Look away, Avery!

  I look down, sucking in a deep breath as his hands come up to cup my face. “You’re right, and I also have a player status to keep up with.”

  I smirk. “Wannabe player.”

  He laughs at my correction. “Small details. Now, kiss me.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now,” he says, taking my mouth with his. His grip on my hair is tight as he kisses the living stuffing out of me. I thought I would have pissed him off with my assumptions of him, but apparently I didn’t. He still wants me. And there is no way around it—I want him too. Tearing his mouth from mine, he sits up, pushing me down onto his cock, but he doesn’t enter me. Instead, he takes my lips with his, his tongue moving in my mouth, invading my space, and I’m not stopping him.

  I need it.

  Hell, this craving is scary.

  Every nerve in my body is on end, wanting to absorb him, and I can’t stop my heart from wanting the same. As he moves his hand between my legs, his fingers run along my thighs, and I don’t freeze like I would if anyone ever came close to touching my thighs. I’m too busy kissing him, flying on the cloud he is providing for me. Which, again, is wrong. I promised I’d never let my guard down with anyone ever again, but I left that sucker outside apparently, because his hands are all over me and I’m not stopping him.

  I’m urging him for more.

  He moves his big, strong hand along my center, and his breath is harsh against my jaw, matching mine. I feel his knees come up against my back, and that confuses me until he pushes me back, my head hitting his shins softly as his mouth trails down the center of my body. He licks along my belly button, and my body tenses up as my arms dangle above my head. When he pushes me farther up his legs, I almost freak out, until his hands take ahold of my thighs and he buries his face between them.

  Crying out, I jerk up but he has me pinned, only my upper half jerking and thrashing beneath that torturous mouth. He doesn’t open me up. He tongues my lips as if his mouth is playing hide-and-seek with the bundle of nerves that has to the potential to send me into oblivion. When he finds it, my cries are loud and obnoxious as I writhe against his legs. He doesn’t stop, though. He’s relentless, his mouth on one mission, a mission I very much like.

  He slides one finger inside of me, and I take ahold of my breasts, squeezing them as I gasp, my body squeezing him in turn. “So fucking tight,” he says, his voice almost teasing. “How many people have you been with?”

  “Really?” I gasp. “That’s really a question you need to know the answer to right now?”

  Instead of answering me, he takes my clit between his teeth, causing me to scream. Lifting up, I slide my fingers into his hair, squeezing to make him stop. He doesn’t, though. There is no way he’s only slept with seven people. How does he know that things like this drive girls mad?

  “Seven people? I don’t believe you’ve only slept with that few,” I accuse and he laughs against my pussy.

  “I slept with a much older lady the last time,” he whispers against my lips. “I learned a few tricks.”

  Well, thank God for that lady! I am having no problems reaping the benefits.

  “Now, answer me.”

  He bites again, not hard, but enough to send me arching against his mouth. “Fine! Four people.”

  “Mmm,” he says, curving his tongue along my clit ever so slowly. Gasping for air, I want to know why that matters, but really, nothing matters. Lying back on his legs, I dangle as he tortures me in the most perfect way. I squeeze my breasts, as some kind of leverage, I guess, and his name falls from my lips more than once. It fuels him, I notice, makes him go faster, and I don’t know how much more I can handle.

  When his finger starts to move in and out of me, I’m a goner. It’s as if I’m in an ejector seat, flying through the sky. My release rocks me to my soul. As I tremble, he holds me, still ruthlessly licking me to the point I’m sitting up and curving my body over his head, hoping to make him stop. I bite into his back, and he cries out against my pussy. But then he is chuckling, his hands gripping me tightly. I don’t know why, but I laugh too, leaning back and meeting his heated gaze.

  “I can’t get enough,” he whispers as his finger trails up my belly to my breast, swirling around my tit. “You taste like Momma’s apple pie.”

  “I love apple pie,” I admit and he grins.

  “Me too.” He winks before reaching up and opening the drawer again. There must be a spotlight or something because the whole room is illuminated and I’m able to watch him as he sheaths himself. He goes to roll us over, but I don’t want that. I want to please him, the way he has me. Directing him inside of me, I slide down his thighs until he is fully inside me.

  I swear it’s like his cock is in my throat, he fills me so completely.

  Groaning against my neck, he squeezes my hips with his fingers and we don’t move. Both of us are adjusting to the tight fit and the overwhelming burst of pleasure from it. He is perfect. I swear it. And when he slowly moves me up the length of him like I weigh nothing, and then brings me back down, my plan of pleasing him is gone, and I’m his toy.

  He can do whatever he