Bang: B-Squad Book Two (9 page)

H
e loved women
. Loved their curves, their softness, their tempting sense of possibility. Tamara had all of that, but that wasn't what shot a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. No. It was her edges, her hardness, her tantalizing cryptic promise. It was that she didn't surrender in his arms so much as throw down a gauntlet and—with a teasing wink—ask him what he was going to do about it. There was no way in heaven or hell he wouldn't pick it up.

The moment he brought his mouth down to her half-parted, full lips, they both knew what it was—a challenge accepted. He swept his tongue inside her hot mouth, deepening the kiss as he pulled her against his hard dick. Fuck, he wanted her. He had from the moment he'd clapped eyes on her after compiling her extensive background file. Now he was going to have her.

She undulated against him, her hips rocking against him with an urgency that had his eyes crossing. The sweet friction almost made up for the lack of skin-to-skin contact, but he'd never been a man for almost. He wanted her wet, naked, and moaning underneath him, on top of him, and any other way he could get her. The options were endless.

He dragged his lips from her luscious mouth to her jaw. "Wall," he said against her skin. "Couch." He kissed his way to the spot where her ear met her throat. "Kitchen counter." He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, grazing his teeth across her flesh. "Dining room table." He made his way down the slim column of her throat, over her fluttering pulse point, to the base. "Bed."

"I can only pick one?"

He slipped a button on her shirt free. "Darlin', that's the order of events, not a list of either-or."

"You really think you're up for that?" she teased, rubbing up against the proof of exactly how ready he was.

"Are you?" He made quick work of her remaining buttons but didn't spread her shirt wide. The strip of visible creamy flesh mesmerized him. "I think you are." God knew he could feel her heat against him. "I think you're wet and ready for me already."

She arched her back, making the material of her shirt slip a few inches back and revealing more of her tempting flesh. "Only one way to find out."

"One way?" He traced a single finger across the upper swells of her tits, avoiding the hard points of her nipples pressing against the thin material of her bra even though it almost killed him to avoid the sensitive peaks. "That shows a serious lack of creativity."

She took half a step back, the look in her eyes promising he'd like whatever came next, so he let her go. Never looking away from him, she reached down to the skirt covering her from her firm thighs down to her knees and slowly inched it up. His cock twitched with every bit of leg exposed. By the time she'd scrunched the material high enough so she could spread her legs hip-width apart, he was listing world capitals in his head to keep from grabbing her and fucking her over the back of the couch. The sheer black of her panties showed as much as it covered. Much like the woman herself, they gave away only enough to drive him right up to the edge of crazy and make jumping over seem like the best idea ever.

Looking up at him with a desire-hooded gaze and a smile as sinful as cake and ice cream for breakfast, she curled her lips into a knowing smile. "Give me your hand."

Like he was going to say no. He held it out, palm up. She snagged her bottom lip between her teeth and took his hand in her much smaller one. His whole body hummed with expectation as she pulled his hand between her spread thighs and pressed it to her damp panties.

"You tell me," she said, lust a low thread stringing her words together. "Am I wet enough for you?"

If he could have formed words at the moment he would have, but that wasn't going to happen. A switch had flipped and the only thing that mattered in the world was making the woman in front of him come.

"That's enough teasing." He dropped to his knees, whipping her panties down with him before clamping his hands on her hips. He held her place, his fingertips pressing into her full ass and his thumbs as close to the apex of her thighs as he could get.

"Who said I was teasing?" she asked, a sexy little catch in her voice. "You asked a question and I answered...creatively."

Smart ass. "Can you stay still, or do I have to hold you in place?"

"Depends." She looked down at him and wove her fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder than she needed to. "Are you any good?"

"Darlin, I'm gonna rock your world so hard you just might pull out half of my hair in the process." And it would be worth it to hear her scream in ecstasy.

She gulped and that bitchy, always-in-control facade of hers wavered. "You’d better hold onto me then."

He did, pushing her back just enough that her ass was against the back of the couch. Every taut line in her body told him she expected him to just dive in. Instead, he ran his tongue up the inside of her smooth thigh, skipped over the most inviting spot at the top, and kissed his way over the top of her bare mound. Her body went still and tense as he got closer to the tip of her clit peeking out through her glistening lips. His hands still grasping her hips, he looked up at her as he skipped over that bundle of nerves and tasted his way down the inside of her other thigh.

She let out a frustrated sigh and her head dropped back. "You're not nice."

"Are you just figuring that out?" he asked, forcing a lightness into his tone that was at odds with near blinding desperation to taste her.

"Isaac, please." She pushed against his hold on her hips, drawing his attention exactly where they both wanted it to be.

"What do you want?" He tightened his grip on her hips and drove her back against the couch, refusing to touch her anywhere else even though her perfect, pink pussy was at mouth level and he was dying to taste her.

"You know," she pleaded.

"Don't turn shy on me now." He leaned in and blew a breath across her. "Tell me."

"I want your tongue on me."

He loosened his hold on her hips and glided his palms to her thighs, spreading his fingers wide so his thumbs rested on her inner thighs only inches below her core. "Where?"

"My pussy." It was an appeal, a surrender, a dare—she would never present only one answer, not even in a moment like this, not even with two simple words.

"How do you want it, darlin'?" He rubbed soft circles with the pads of his thumbs that moved higher with each rotation. "Slow? Fast? Hard? Gentle? Fingers? Sucking? Licking? Fucking you with my tongue?"

She bucked against his hold and thrust her hips forward so her sweet, glistening center was only inches from his mouth. "Yes."

"Good. That's my favorite."

The first lap was slow. He took his time to taste her, to feel her thighs shake under his palms, to hear her unmuffled moan of pleasure. All of it made his cock harder than he thought possible, but he wanted—needed—more. He wet a finger in his mouth then slid it home inside of her before adding a second and twisting them around so he could flick them against her G-spot. She threw her head back, grinding her core against the flat of his palm as he enjoyed the taste of her clinging to his lips.

"Damn." He muttered the curse into her wet center, then glided his tongue along her inner lips and circled her clit, licking and sucking her without mercy as she rotated her hips and pushed against him.

Lost in her wet softness, he took her with his mouth, slow then fast, hard and then soft. He added and withdrew fingers in response to the way she trembled and mewled her pleasure, wanting to take her higher with each stroke and lick.

"Yes," she cried out, her voice strangled with desire.

His fingers slid in and out, stretched her open while his tongue continued its dance. Millimeter by millimeter, his flat tongue slid up her wet lips. He stopped at her clit, sucked the warm nub into his mouth.

She yanked on his hair and rocked against his tongue as her core tightened around his fingers. Close. She was almost there. All he needed to do was give her a little push and she'd explode over the edge. He curled his fingers so he could reach the tight bundle of nerves just inside her entrance as he plunged them inside her and sucked hard on her hard clit. Her entire body tightened as she let out a hoarse “yes” and came against his mouth, sweet and hard and free.

Rolling back onto his heels, he wiped a hand across his mouth before standing. Her blue eyes were half-hooded, her cheeks pink and her breathing labored as she watched him. Instead of firing off a smart remark, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, slid the straps down her arms and dropped the scrap of material to the floor beside her discarded panties.

"Check off the couch." Her arm shot out and she shoved him back until his ass hit the drywall. "Now for the wall."

Her legs might still be made of Jell-O after that orgasm, but there was no way Tamara was waiting any longer for Isaac's cock. She was many things, but patient when it came to getting what she wanted wasn't one of them, especially not with blind lust threatening to burn her from the inside out.

She latched onto his leather belt and slipped it free of the buckle. "Take off your boots."

"You're still wearing your shoes," he said, his voice husky.

Raising herself to her full height in the four-inch heels—which still brought her almost half a foot shy of Isaac's six feet four—she pressed her naked body to him and relished how her body lined up almost perfectly with his thanks to her stilettos. The tightening in his jaw and flare of desire in his dark brown eyes proved she wasn't the only one to appreciate the added height.

"Are you asking me to take them off?" She slid her hands between their bodies and popped the button of his jeans open.

"Fuck no."

"Good." She yanked his zipper down and slipped her hand inside the opening of his boxers, wrapping her fingers around the hard steel of his cock. "Take them off. Take it all off."

Hating to let him go, she did and took a step back to watch the show. Grinning, no doubt because he knew damn well she wanted to watch, he pulled off his boots slowly and followed up by leisurely getting rid of his jeans, shirt, and boxers, exposing one small square of light brown skin at a time. By the time he was standing before her without a stitch on, she'd forgotten how to breathe.

Her imaginings of a bare-naked Isaac had been hot. The real thing was scorching. Broad shoulders. Thick thighs. Defined, sinewy arms. A dusting of dark, curly hair across hard pecs, drifting down over rippling abs to end at the base of an impressive cock, the swollen tip already wet with pre-come.

"Damn." And that was the honest truth.

He winked, the cocky bastard. "The feeling's mutual, darlin'."

She should make him wait, but she couldn't keep her hands off him any longer. His chest hair sprung back against her fingers, tickling her palms as she glided them down his chest. He stood still underneath her touch—silent for once—but there was no missing the hammer of his heart under her hand. She dipped her head and lapped at the hard point of his nipple.

"I suppose you're going to draw this out."

"Turnabout is fair play." She trailed her fingers over the flexing muscles of his abdomen and encircled his dick, holding him tight.

He exhaled a sharp breath and the back of his head hit the wall with a thunk. "You're mean."

Sinking down to her knees before him, she kept her face tilted upward so she could watch his face. "And you love it."

Whatever he was about to say was swallowed by a strangled groan the second she swirled her tongue over the head of his cock. She kept one hand at the base and took him in as deep as she could before retreating and repeating the process, engulfing him a little bit more each time. His thigh was tree-trunk hard underneath her left hand. Even as she took him in, she had to touch, to explore, to know him. Her fingers wandered, caressing his leg, reaching up over his lean hip, tracing across his muscular abs.

Blowjobs weren't part of her normal routine, but when had anything with Isaac been even remotely close to normal? The closest it got was the fact that he obviously had more money in his bank account than he let on with his worn-in jeans and his mid-mileage truck. And for the first time in longer than she could remember, it didn't matter. That wasn't why she was here sucking him. It was because she wanted to, pure and simple. She wanted to make him feel good, to hear him lose control, to give him one heart-stopping moment of total bliss—and not because she was trying to pay him back for helping her, but because she couldn't imagine anything better.

He groaned. "God you look good like that."

She let his cock go with a quiet pop but kept her right hand stroking the hard length of him. "I always look good."

"I know where you'd look even better."

Something flashed in his eyes that made her shiver in the best of all possible ways. Then, lightning fast, he hooked his hands under her arms and hauled her up to a standing position. On her next breath she was in the air before being tossed over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. The position gave her an unprecedented look at his very perfect ass, which she smacked.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smiling despite all the blood rushing to her head.

"Taking you somewhere horizontal.” His sure stride bypassed the kitchen.

"What about the counters?" She caught a glimpse of a long, wooden table before he turned down a hallway lit only by the moonlight coming in through a large skylight. "Or the dining room table?"

"Next time."

"Who said there'd be a next time?"

He turned into a moonlit room. "Darlin', get back to me in a few hours and let me know if you haven't figured out the answer to that one."

Her core clenched. One orgasm had made her greedy for more. "You're awfully confident."

"And you love it."

He wrapped his hands around her waist and did some kind of shoulder pop thing and she went sailing through the air, landing with a soft thump in the middle of a giant mattress. It was exactly where she wanted to be.