Charged, p.31
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       Charged, p.31

           Jay Crownover
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  “Sounds like a plan. Whatever you need holler at me and I’m here for you.” He put his hands on my hips and backed me away from the still-smoky kitchen towards the massive leather couch that took up the entire center of the living room.

  I put my hands on his shoulders when my ass hit the back edge of the sofa and parted my legs so he would press himself right into the notch that I swore was designed to fit around him and only him. “You can help me with my math homework … naked.”

  He chuckled and bent his tawny head down so that he could brush his lips across mine. The soft caress made me catch my breath and the hitch quickly turned into a sigh as he pressed me back even farther so that my feet were no longer touching the ground and I had to wrap my legs around his lean waist to avoid falling backwards. I curled my hands around his biceps and watched with heavy lidded eyes as he shifted his attention to my combat boots—pulling one off and tossing it over his shoulder, where it landed with a heavy thud.

  “Homework won’t get done if either of us is naked. I can’t even boil water when I start thinking about you in my bed, under me, and calling my name. I almost burned the fucking loft down trying to toast bread when my mind wanders and all I can picture is you on your knees in front of me, with that pouty mouth wrapped around my cock. You are the best and worst kind of distraction, so really it’s your fault dinner is in the trash.”

  I let out a strangled laugh as he slid his hands under the waistband of the black-and-white leggings I had on underneath the plaid shirtdress I had worn to meet with the advisers at the arts institute. The stretchy fabric was down my legs and thrown over his shoulder within seconds, and the abrasive scrape of his jeans against my inner thighs as he pressed right into my center made me groan and shift against that prominent bulge that was making its presence known.

  I lifted my eyebrows at him as he put one hand on the curve of my ass and used the other to slowly start opening the front of my top. “Sorry about dinner.” The dry humor in my tone made him grin at me and the lightness in his expression, the pure, unfiltered happiness that now shone out of him on a regular basis, made me love him harder than I already did. Quaid finding his balance, his place between who he was and who he thought he was meant to be, was a beautiful thing and it inspired me to always try and be the best me I could going forward.

  “You can make it up to me by offering to be dessert.” He finally had all the buttons free and pushed the fabric to the side so that I was sitting before him in nothing more than dark red panties and the matching bra.

  He hooked a finger under the leg of my lacy underwear and I bit out a gasp as his knuckle brushed delicately across my outer folds. “Are you calling me dessert because I look like candy?” The words were harsh because his finger found its way into the damp cleft that never failed to quiver and tremble for him.

  “You’re dessert because you’re sweet, Avett. So very sweet, and you would be that way whether you had cotton-candy-colored hair or not.”

  That made my heart swell and my body go liquid and loose around his probing finger. I went to pull him closer so I could kiss the shit out of him for being so sweet himself, but instead I yelped as he suddenly tugged the lace down and off of me right before he lowered himself to his knees in front of me and moved my legs so that they were resting on his wide shoulders. I had to wrap my fingers in his thick, golden hair to keep my balance as he pushed my legs open wider and moved his head to the side so that he could place a sucking kiss on the inside of my thigh. My flesh pebbled in anticipation and I saw his eyes narrow and his nostrils flare as my sex started to glisten in eagerness.

  His face was covered in golden scruff, and the rasp of it against my most tender of places had my toes curling and my mouth watering as he traced lazy patterns with the tip of his tongue against my skin.

  My hips rocked towards his face involuntarily and I made a noise as I almost toppled backwards on the couch. He grunted as I pulled on the fistful of hair I was still holding on to for balance and looked up at me with humor and desire clouding his pale gaze. “Careful.”

  “I can’t be held responsible for my actions when your mouth is that close to my vagina.” I forced myself to loosen my hold on his hair, but my entire body tensed when his low chuckle hit all the aching and exposed nerves right at the heart of me.

  Both of his hands settled on the outsides of my hips to hold me steady as he tugged me closer to his mouth. I muttered his name as his tongue darted out and swiped at my slit from the top to the bottom, sending chills and desire scattering all across my skin. I instinctively parted my legs even wider and arched into the elusive touch of his mouth. His stubble scraped across my skin as he settled in and used his mouth to fully devour me like I was, indeed, the sweetest dessert he had ever tasted.

  The tip of his nose dragged through my folds and brushed across my clit; it made me jerk and had his hands tightening on my hips to keep me upright. He laughed again, and the puff of air and the vibration from his mouth had me whispering his name and letting my eyes float closed as pleasure wrapped its way around every nerve ending and cell in my body. The flat of his tongue dragged its way through my sensitive valley and then circled my clit playfully. The rough scrape of his teeth across the sensitive bud followed and I threw my head back with a loud moan.

  He barked at me to hold on to the back of the couch so he could let go of his hold on me with one hand, and the next thing I knew his fingers were filling me up as his hungry mouth worked its way over and around that taut bundle of nerves that pulsed and throbbed at his every stroke. My body bent and bowed towards him and my thighs shifted restlessly next to his ears as the slick sound of sex and pleasure started to fill the loft. He had no problem making my body respond to him in the most delicious and obvious ways. There was never any hiding how turned on I was, or how much I wanted him when he put his mouth on me.

  My spine stiffened and my entire body thrummed in anticipation as I rode his pumping fingers and moved my desperate center against his biting and sucking mouth. I moved my hand from his silken hair to his bristly cheek and shivered when I felt it hollow out under my palm as he sucked my overly sensitized clit between his teeth for an artful nibble.

  “Quaid.” I muttered his name and rocked my hips up as he added another finger to the mix and I whimpered when I felt my own wetness start to trickle down the inside of my leg. He didn’t act like he heard me or if he did he was ignoring me, so I tapped his cheek with my fingers and said much louder, “Dennis, I need a minute.”

  At the use of his given name, Quaid’s head jerked back and I wanted to groan at the sight of his too-pretty face flushed, damp, and shiny with all the amazing things he did to me. His brows pulled together in a tight V over his faded blue eyes as I scrambled over the edge of the couch so that I was on my knees facing him as he rose back to his feet in front of me. I reached out a hand and ran it over the delineated lines of his abs and up the front of him until I had his sculpted chest and all that marvelous artwork visible to my greedy gaze. He shrugged the shirt the rest of the way off over the top of his head and took a step towards me as I grabbed the top of his jeans and popped the button loose so that I could circle the tip of his cock with my thumb where it peeked out over the edge of his dark boxer briefs.

  “Dessert is meant to be shared. You got your bite first, and now I want mine.” I’d been salivating to have him in my mouth ever since he told me it was the image of me on my knees in front of him that had made him ruin dinner in the first place. Getting when Quaid was the one giving was amazing, but giving when he was the one receiving had its own kind of heady power and was its own special kind of thrill. I liked that I could make him as weak in the knees and as needy as he made me on the regular.

  I forcibly tugged the denim down around his hips, taking his underwear with the rough fabric so that I had unfettered access to his long, thick cock. It jutted out at me, ready and willing for whatever I had in mind. I grinned up at Quaid and used the tips of my short nails to r
ake through the tuft of darker blond hair that his happy trail led to. All of him was so golden and glorious I was sure there was no way I would run out of ways to revel in touching him. Being with this man was always the best decision I could ever make, and the rightness of it all made things between us even better than they already were.

  I bent my head down so I could swipe my tongue across his rigid length from root to tip, pausing when I got to the leaking slit and spending extra time savoring his taste and his desire. Quaid grunted and moved one of his hands to the top of my head as I worked my mouth up and down in combination with a circling and gliding fist around the base of his shaft. His other hand slid down across my spine and rested in the center of my back as I leaned over on the couch so that I could swallow as much of his insistent direction as I could.

  I could hear his breathing shift as I squeezed him tighter and sucked him harder. I felt his nails drag across my skin and watched as his muscular thighs tightened as I hummed my appreciation of all his masculine glory along the unyielding flesh that was riding my tongue like it was a carnival attraction. I was struggling to breathe as he started to move against my face but I wasn’t complaining. I liked him out of control, crazy with lust, and lost in his own pleasure and taking for himself. As long as I was the one giving him what he wanted, he could be as selfish and as greedy with me as he wanted.

  But this was Quaid. This was the man that loved me and had made it his mission to bring goodness back into my life, so right when I was sure he was going to come down my throat with a shudder and a shout, I was suddenly left sucking in lungfuls of air as he wrenched his now glistening and wet cock out of my mouth and with a dirty word groaned loudly and desperately.

  Before I could ask him what he was doing, he had his hands under my arms and he was lifting me over the backside of the sofa and turning me around so that my back was to him as he bent me over and told me to put my hands on the edge. The back clasp of my bra was undone and my breasts fell heavy and full into his waiting grasp as he stepped up behind me so that his heart beat right against my spine. He used his feet to spread mine wider and I felt the steely probe of his erection as it slid through my soaked folds as he rocked his hips against my backside.

  His lips hit the back of my neck as his talented fingers plucked and rolled my eager nipples. “How ’bout we feed each other dessert?” His warm breath made the tiny hairs that were exposed by my braid dance and had my entire body shivering.

  I nodded weakly and put one of my hands over the top of his as he continued to fondle me with equal parts gentleness and roughness. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He chuckled as I used his earlier words, but we both stopped being able to make any noises beyond a gasp and a moan as his tip hit my begging opening. I canted my hips a little to help him slide in, and as soon as we had the position right, he slipped all the way in and I felt the stretch and burn of his body overtaking mine through every single part of me.

  He pulled back and rocked forward with more force, which had my teeth clamping down on my lip and made me lift up onto the tips of my toes so I could take even more of him inside of me. My channel spasmed around him and I could feel my body pulling on his, asking for more. Begging him to go farther, to push deeper, and because he was an executive he knew what I wanted without my having to ask.

  He put a hand on my back and bent me over even more so that my ass was in the air and my hands were on the seat cushions in front of me. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was in me so deep and thrusting so hard and wild that I could have been bent in half and I wouldn’t have cared, and when he wrapped the end of my braid around his hand and used it to pull my head back and ordered me to look at him while he fucked me, I was pretty sure I was going to explode on the spot. The sounds of our hips slapping together, and the slick sounds of his body thrusting and filling mine, was making me hot and squirmy where I was impaled on his hammer cock. And the sight of his tattooed chest heaving and slick with sweat as he worked us both to the point of incoherent pleasure was so animalistic and sexy that I had to squeeze my eyes shut again to avoid losing it all simply from watching what he was doing. I loved all of Quaid and all the different types of men that were housed inside his gorgeous body, but this version of him was undoubtedly my favorite. When he fucked me raw and untamed, when he owned me, the sensations he brought to life in me—that was when he was the most authentic and the most honest. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. He also knew what I wanted and knew that he was the only man that was capable of giving it to me. It made sex with him a memorable and an exciting experience, every single time.

  The hand that wasn’t wrapped in my hair rubbed across my hip, skated over the lifted curve of my ass, and expertly dipped and played in that darkened valley I had yet to let him explore. Quaid liked to play and liked to explore every single inch of me but I wasn’t quite at his level yet and he never pushed me past what I was comfortable with. That didn’t mean that he didn’t tempt and tease with erotic and dangerous touches that hinted at the pleasure and surprise that was waiting for me when I relented and put myself in his very skilled hands. His palm slipped down the front of me where I was leaning against the back of the couch. I knew where he was headed so I sucked in a breath and let it out slowly at the first brush of his fingers across my clit. Everything swirled and spiraled into a vortex of sex and pleasure as my orgasm hit with the force of a tidal wave and I couldn’t stop the shriek that tumbled across my lips. I fisted my hands on the couch cushions and let my head fall forward as he finally released my hair and he shifted his hands to my hips as he pounded into me jerkily, frantic in search of his own release.

  His breathing was harsh and rustled through the fog of satisfaction that engulfed me. He mumbled my name and it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, so I found my balance and lifted the knee of one of my legs up on the back of the couch so that he could go even deeper and get even closer to the edge of his own completion. He growled something dirty and sexy as the new position opened me up even further to him, and it didn’t take long before I felt his big body tense where it hovered over mine and felt the heat and rush of his orgasm fill me as his cock jerked and his movements stilled.

  We stayed that way for a minute as he worked to catch his breath and as I floated around in a happy bubble of fulfillment and languid love. I muttered a soft protest as his strong arms were suddenly wrapped around my middle and pulling me upright so that I was pressed all along the front of him, the tattoo of the eagle so close to me I could swear that I could feel each and every single one of the feathers on its massive wings. Quaid’s arms wrapped around me in a tight hug and his lips rested on the top of my head as he whispered, “Now you really look like dessert, pink hair all tangled and wild around your head and covered in cream. If anyone besides me thinks they get a taste, I may have to murder them.”

  I snorted at the filthy words and lifted my arms so that I could hold on to the hands that were holding on to me so tightly. “You may suck at dinner but you’ve got dessert handled, hotshot.”

  He kissed the top of my head again and I leaned back into him with a sigh as sex and love covered both of us from head to toe.

  “Hey, Quaid.” My voice was soft and so was my heart.


  “You’re the best bad decision I ever made, and you are, by far, my favorite story to tell.”

  He pulled out of both the embrace and where we were still joined and turned me so that I was facing him. He put his hands on either of my cheeks and bent so that his mouth touched mine in the lightest kiss he could give me and still have it be considered a kiss.

  “You’re the best decision I made period, Avett. Our story is only at the beginning so I hope you want to tell it for years and years to come.”

  I laughed and pulled him in for a real kiss, and all I could think was, Of course my dad was right about everything.

  Bad decisions did lead to great stories and, in my case, great love. I’d make
every single crappy choice and foolish error again if it meant I would end up exactly where I was right now. Every mistake was a piece of me, a part of my story, and without each of them there was no way I would be starting my own happy-ever-after in his perfect, stormy, blue-gray eyes.



  Christmas Day …

  She was everything I ever wanted and then some.

  Her multicolored eyes sparkled up at me with humor and knowing as I braced a hand on the wall in front of me and used the other to roll her velvety nipple around with my thumb. When she told me she had a Christmas present for me, I assumed it would be a new tie now that I was back at work or some homemade sweet treat that she made now that she had taken over my kitchen as thoroughly as she had taken over my heart.

  What I wasn’t expecting was for her to lead me to our bed, strip, and tell me she wanted to give me my biggest sexual fantasy for Christmas. She was always open and giving in bed, but I was aware that there were some things I wanted from her and to do to her she wasn’t ready for. So, when she laid back with those spectacular tits all oiled up and waiting for me, I was pretty sure I’d died and gone to sexual heaven.

  I could never take from her without giving everything I had to give first, so before I took advantage of the gift she was giving I kissed my way up her body, making sure I spent plenty of time to stop and savor her where she was already wet and willing. She looked like a pretty confection, so colorful and covered in a hard shell that she needed to keep her soft center safe, but she tasted like dreams and promises. There was no actual definition for the way she tasted when she blossomed and went slick against my tongue, but each time she did, I swore she tasted better than the last time I had my fill of her.

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