guy.Camilla Landry rustles against me, the silky fabric of her overpriced lingerie
slipping along my bruised rib. The porcelain perfection of her skin is even
more innocent against the colorful ink dotting my own. It’s demure meets damage,
pampered meets punctured.So, yeah, it’s obvious I’m that guy. Dominic Hughes. Her attempt at rebellion.
Her bid to see what the other side of the tracks feel like. I’m okay with being
used because, from where I’m sitting, the other side of the tracks have never
looked so good.
standing in the doorway, one hand on the sweatpants that hang just below his chiseled
hips and the other leans on the frame. The tattoos that mark his flesh are
vivid against his bare skin, making the blues of his eyes shine.
a lopsided smile my way. “Took you long enough.”
drive like a bat out of hell,” I laugh, stepping past him. “Did you shower
smelled like gym floors.”
you don’t smell like gym whores,” I say, setting the bags on the table in the
is contagious and I feel myself smiling. A set of arms cage me in from behind,
grasping the table on both sides of me. My skin breaks out in a shiver as his
lips find the sensitive spot behind my ear.
buries in the crook of my neck and he takes a long, leisurely breath. “You
smell so good.”
that,” I say, relaxing my head onto his chest.
with your mouth against me.”
this?” he asks all breathily so that each word whispers across my skin.
fall closed as I relish in this moment of nothing but him. “No, I love this.”
you a little secret?”
you keep talking, you can tell me whatever you want.”
chuckles, dotting kisses up and down my neck. “I love this too, feeling your
body give up the fight of the day and let me take over.” He turns me in his
arms so I’m facing him. “I love that you trust me enough to let your shoulders
sink out of that perfect posture you walk around with.”
reaches up and undoes the elastic in my hair, I watch his features soften. He
moves carefully, unwrapping the tie from the twisted mess in my locks, careful
not to pull.
says, cupping the back of my head through my long tresses, “that’s better.”
like my hair up?”
you had it. You look to lunching-y,” he says, wrinkling his nose.
too fucking sexy.”
up, I swipe the pad of my thumb over the cut above his eye. He flinches, but
just for a second. “What happened?”
some ice for it.”
in, his brows tugging together. “Let’s not.” His eyes hood as he takes me in,
his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. My knees weaken, my body humming
with delight at his reaction.
take care of you,” I whisper, although that’s really on the backburner now.
“Let me baby you.”
lifts me up and places me on the table. My stomach clenches as he positions
himself between my thighs, my sundress curling at my waist. I ring my legs
around him, pulling him so close that the soft cotton of his sweatpants rubs
against my opening.
down. “You aren’t wearing panties.”
USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.