Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

of him flooded her, almost overwhelming her. She’d wanted this for so long that now that it was happening, she felt as though she couldn’t catch her breath. That her heart was going to explode for how hard and fast it was pounding against her ribs.

He groaned and deepened the kiss, and she wound her arms around him, curling her fingers in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close. Each slide of his tongue against hers was like an electric shock, zapping through her and leaving her tingling. His palms roved restlessly up and down her back, and in that moment, all she knew was that she wanted Max. She’d wanted him since the first week she’d started working with him, and the wanting had only intensified. Max, with his chiseled features and thick, muscled body. Max, with his surliness designed to keep everyone at arm’s length. Max, who wielded pain and intelligence and ambition like a shield.

She’d wanted him then, and she wanted him now. If anything, the terror of the night only made her want him even more than she had before.

He broke the kiss suddenly, his hands cupping her face. His chest heaved as he sucked in air and he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was gruff. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Max, I—”

He pulled back and shook his head. “I’m an asshole. After what you’ve been through tonight, the last thing you need is me taking advantage of you. I’m sorry, Willa. Fuck.”

She traced her fingertips over his jaw, his lips. His eyes fell closed as she touched him and he let out a shaky breath. He caught her fingers and lowered them to her lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was sorry for kissing her, or sorry for stopping. She pressed a hand to his shoulder and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She sucked in a sharp breath when she felt him against her, hard and huge.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Please, Max. You’re not taking advantage. I don’t want you to stop. I need you. Please.”

His nostrils flared as his palms slid up and down her back. She held still, giving him the chance to decide and hoping with everything she had that he wouldn’t push her away. She’d wanted him for months, and now that she’d had a taste, she needed more. So much more.

“I can feel how much you want me,” she whispered, rocking her hips against him. His jaw went tight as the ridge of his cock pressed against where she was wet and throbbing for him. “Take me.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, sliding one hand into her hair and kissing her, slow and deep. He kissed the way he seemed to do everything, with a focused intensity designed to get results. She melted into him, an ache setting up camp between her legs. She shifted, feeling her panties slide against her, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on.

His tongue stroked against hers, making her stomach dip and swirl, making her skin feel hot and sensitive. God, could he kiss. It was as though he’d studied the manual for how she liked to be kissed and had memorized it. Every sweep of his tongue against hers, every slide of his lips, was perfection.

Her fingers shook as she undid first one button of his shirt and then another, and then another, exposing a swath of skin, heavy with muscle and lightly dusted with dark brown hair. She undid another and he broke the kiss, sucking in a deep breath.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.

She undid another button. “You, Max.” She forced herself to meet his piercing blue eyes, holding his gaze. “I’ve wanted you for a while, and after tonight I’m done pretending that I don’t.”

2

Max leaned forward and kissed Willa again, capturing her mouth with his, and then stood with her still in his lap. She felt like air in his arms, her legs wound around his waist. She pressed her face into his neck, savoring the solid warmth of him against her. She felt so incredibly tiny in his arms. So incredibly safe and sheltered. It was a feeling she wanted to chase tonight after everything she’d been through.

She kissed his neck, his jaw, inhaling him deep into her lungs, a part of her still unable to believe this was actually happening. He started walking through his apartment, one big hand splayed across her back, the other on her ass, searing her through her clothes.

“Where are we going?” she asked. She knew. She just wanted to hear him say it. To prove that it was real.

“My bedroom,” he rumbled out. “Not gonna fuck you on the couch, Willa.”

She made a soft sound in the back of her throat and kissed his neck again, her heart a frantic hummingbird in her chest. Every nerve ending in her body felt alive. Felt hungry. And deep inside her, an ache had bloomed, throbbing and insistent. It wouldn’t go away until he was inside her, filling her up the way she’d been fantasizing about for months.

They moved past the staircase and into a darkened hallway that apparently led to the master suite. The bedroom was dark, but there was enough light pouring in from the skyline that she could make out the king-sized bed facing the windows, could see the built-in bookshelves covering the far wall. The rest of the details were fuzzy though, because all she could focus on was Max. The feel of his body pressed to hers, the scent of his skin.

He sank down onto the edge of the bed, still holding her in his lap. She leaned back just enough that she could pull her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her exposed to him. She hardly ever wore a bra, and when she did, it was basically as a nipple shield, not