Dirty Laundry (The Q Collection Book 4)

by Jennie Kew

  Before I can stop them, the words I've been searching for tumble free. "I don't know if I can do this."

  Adam stiffens a little, taken aback as if the possibility I might reject his advances never occurred to him. Not that I am rejecting him, exactly.

  But I need to be sure.

  "What I mean is, mucking around on my own is one thing, but what if…?" I ignore every impulse telling me to throw myself at this man, to grab what he's offering with both hands and run with it. I straighten my back and hope my voice doesn't waver. "What if I say no?"

  His chest rises and falls with measured breaths, his eyes almost black. "I don't get off on assaulting women, if that's what you're worried about. If you want me to go, I'll go," he says, then drops his gaze to my lips. He leans a little closer, whispers his words across my cheek, layers them with meaning. "But if you want me to stay…."

  In other words, I'm in control.

  I search his eyes for an eternity, looking for the hidden joke, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the streamers and balloons to explode down from the ceiling and some horrible, gaudy game show host to jump out laughing, "Gotcha!" But I see nothing, no one. Just Adam watching me with narrowed eyes, his cautious expression at odds with the lust and the longing—the hope—I see smouldering in his dark green depths.

  He wants me.

  Me!

  A single word whispers past my lips. "Stay."

  His mouth is on mine in an instant, his lips firm and hot, and that whimper I've been suppressing finally escapes me as I kiss him back. Running my fingers through his hair, I fist my hands in the short strands and hold him to me. He groans and pushes his mouth against mine, harder, more urgent. Then suddenly he's pulling back and yanking his T-shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.

  My mouth runs dry at the sight of him. That sneaky T-shirt was hiding a goldmine of droolworthy abs wrapped in soft skin.

  So.

  Fucking.

  Lickable.

  I glance up at his face, then back to that fit chest, back to all that hard muscle and tanned skin. I want him. With a tentative hand, I reach out and touch him, afraid he's not real, that the fumes from the budget-friendly fabric softener I use have finally scrambled my brain and I'm actually hallucinating, but my fingertips meet with hot, solid flesh.

  He's real, all right.

  Really hard.

  Really smooth.

  And really fucking sexy.

  I splay my hands over his chest and explore the expanse of him, finger each ridge of muscle, trace the outline of his nipples and watch them pucker into hard brown peaks. Leaning forward, I take one between my teeth and gently pull at it.

  A hissing sound escapes him as he sucks in his breath, followed by a low moan and a whispered "Fuck" when I swirl my tongue around it and suck it between my lips.

  "You like that, baby?"

  He angles me back against the table in the centre of the room, his mouth latched around my earlobe. "Oh, so I'm baby now. I see how it is," he says with a laugh.

  I grin. "You don't like baby, baby?"

  "Baby works for me, kitten." And then he's nibbling a line along my jaw and down my neck, licking the hollow at the base of my throat where my collarbones meet.

  I slide my hands all over his chest and shoulders and—holy shit—those biceps. There's just so much of him. So much muscle, so much strength and heat. The pure maleness of him is impressive. Beyond compare.

  "You like what you see, kitten?"

  Do I like what I see? Words fail me, and the noise that leaves my mouth as I nod my approval is part whimper, part sigh, and sounds about as dignified as a cat in heat. I want, I crave. A primal urge to claim him as mine has me biting him again, scoring his pectoral muscle with my teeth.

  He yelps at my roughness.

  I lick and kiss the welt I left on his skin. "Sorry, it's just I've never seen a man like you before. Not like this, not up close and personal. You're…" I lick my lips, eager for another taste. "You're magnificent."

  "And you're a little too good for my ego." He pulls me to him for another passionate kiss, his tongue pushing into my mouth and flicking against my own. He moans as he pulls back. "Your turn. Shirt. Off."

  Butterflies swirl in my belly as I reach for the hem of my T-shirt and slowly lift it up. I'm not wearing a bra. Why bother? I mean, I'm not completely flat-chested, but I'm not exactly winning any wet T-shirt contests anytime soon either. But Adam watches me with a rapt expression that fuels my ego and settles the fluttering in my gut. Even so, history has taught me to be cautious, and I slow my movements.

  Big hands slide around my hips. Adam growls, his fingers flex and grip. Eager. Impatient. "You're killing me, kitten."

  I lift my head and look up at him as his tongue darts out to moisten his lips, as his chest heaves with every intake of breath. His gaze is glued to my breasts as if he's waiting for the curtain to rise on the most exciting show in the world.

  He's going to be disappointed.

  I decide the Band-Aid approach is best. Just rip it off and see what happens. And with one quick tug, my shirt is off. It dangles from my fingertips, ready to be whipped up in front of me, to cover the little ladies should things go sideways. But as I feel his fingers tighten on my hips, as I hear his breath catch and exhale on a shuddering sigh, my T-shirt slips from my fingers and out of my reach.

  "They're perfect," Adam says, leaning down to kiss each one in turn, taking his time to lick and suck each of my sensitive nipples until they stand erect and proud. He lifts his face to meet mine. "You're perfect."

  My breath stutters in my chest. Perfect? I would have been happy if he thought I was mediocre, above average at best. But perfect?

  This guy is getting the ride of his fucking life tonight!

  Scrambling for the button at his waist, my urgency matches his as he reaches for the belt buckle at mine. Our mouths crash together, jerky and laughing as we strip each other of the last of our clothes, kick off our shoes and tug off our socks.

  Adam lifts me onto the table's edge, wraps one big arm around my waist and roughly shoves my legs apart, settles his hot body between my knees, then leans over me until I'm lying almost flat. His mouth latches around one pert pink nipple, sucks hard and pulls my breast upwards until it can go no farther, then lets it go and grins as it bounces against my chest. Over and over he does this, one breast and then the other, back and forth, driving me crazy as glorious tension flows through me, an electric pulse that shoots from my breasts to my pussy and then pinballs back to my brain. My poor throbbing brain, consumed with one burning question.

  "Why didn't you talk to me sooner?"

  His lips twist into a self-deprecating smile. "You're not the only one who hides in plain sight."

  "What do you mean?"

  Resting his weight on his forearm, he toys with my hair, sifts the long dark strands through his fingers and watches them fall around me as he speaks. "I'm the night manager at the supermarket two blocks that way," he says, nodding toward the back wall of the laundromat. "And I live one block that way." A jerk of his head toward the front window. "I can't remember the last time I did anything, went anywhere beyond these three city blocks. Home, work, home, work—and then I saw you. I was just walking home from work one night and saw a pretty girl reading a book. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know how. And then I saw you again the next week. And the next." He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself for what he says next, or guarding himself against my reaction to it. "I've watched you for so long. Wanted you for so long."

  I smile, a big puffed-up grin that stretches from cheek to cheek. Fifty Shades of Beige, my ass. I know I should be scared, that Adam's words should terrify me—I mean seriously, stalker much?—but I'm not, and they don't. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am a dirty girl, because knowing he was across the street, watching me, waiting, wanking… I feel… alive. Excited. And so very turned on.

  Every nerve in my body bursts with energy. And the wa
y he's looking at me, like I'm the only thing anchoring him to the planet.

  I feel needed.

  I feel powerful.

  His hips flex between my legs, and he pushes his hard cock against the slick folds of my pussy. His groan echoes mine as I yank him down to kiss me.

  "Enough with the watching. Enough with the waiting. I want you inside me, and I want you now."

  In the time it takes to issue my demand, he thrusts inside me, then stills. His cock is so big, so thick, and he's stretching me open. Shit. I haven't had a dick this big since… ever.

  "Sooo wet." Adam moans long and loud. "Fuck, your body is tight. Must be all that yoga," he says with a wink.

  Wicked laughter bubbles up from inside me. "Shut up and fuck me."

  He pumps his hips. "Anything you want, kitten."

  Thrusting slowly, he lowers himself over me and teases me with kisses, swooping in and pulling back, making me chase him, making me giggle. Making me fucking giggle! Then he tongues my breasts again. Sucks and nips at my sensitive buds until I want to scream, back and forth and over and over until the knot in my belly begins to unravel and I feel like I'm burning up, intense heat exploding outwards through my limbs, blinding me to everything around us.

  Everything but him.

  The softness of his lips, the bite of his teeth, the heat of his tongue.

  I'm coming. I'm coming hard.

  And all from him playing with my tiny tits?

  Wow. Who knew?

  Sliding my hands over his chest and along his arms, I feel his muscles bunch and quiver as he thrusts deep inside me. My gaze roams freely over his face and body, studying every contour, memorising every feature. A small scar adorns the bridge of his nose, the skin there paler than the rest of him. His eyes, a green so dark they're almost black, soft and rich like the finest velvet. His body, his wonderful, powerful body, is sleek steel covered in satin, smooth and hot and hard.

  "I love watching you come." His voice is so deep, the sound heady as he talks dirty to me. "When I watched you last week," he says, his hips rocking to their own careful rhythm, "when you were here on this table with your head dangling over the end and staring straight through the window… oh, shit." His eyelids flutter, he shivers. "You were staring right at me, kitten. And the look on your face when you came…." Another shiver. "Bliss."

  "Did you come too?" I say, panting like a bitch in heat, his gentle thrusting driving me crazy with need, pushing me to the edge of my next orgasm. "Did you come with me?"

  Palming my breast, he squeezes hard. "Yes. Fuck yes."

  I arch up into his hand, his skin hot, his fingers calloused. "Will you come with me now?"

  Adam laughs, the sound warm and welcome by my ear. "You are such a dirty girl."

  I bite my lip and grin. "You like me 'cause I'm dirty."

  "Yeah, I do." And he speeds up his movements, thrusting into me with such force that the table begins to squeak in protest, its metal feet scraping over the linoleum floor.

  My orgasm builds, less volatile than the first but just as intoxicating. Adam slips an arm under me, forcing my pelvis to tilt. His cock sinks deeper, and we both groan. Sucking air into my lungs in great gulps, I try not to pass out from the passion he's wringing from my body.

  Pussy clenching.

  Muscles quivering.

  "Come with me, baby. Come with me." And then I'm falling, ripples of delicious pleasure cascading through me as my orgasm hits. "Adam!" I claw at his biceps. Staring up at his face, I watch his jaw drop, his eyes close, and then he's pulling his cock from inside me and spilling his come on my belly.

  Marking me with his seed.

  Taking my hands in his, he helps me sit up, then kisses me long and slow.

  I run my fingers through his come and smooth it over my skin like an exotic lotion.

  "Fuck, that's hot," he says, a quiet growl sounding deep in his throat.

  Looking down at his softening cock, I lick my lips.

  I want to know what he tastes like.

  Slipping from the table, I gather our clothes and kneel at his feet. He smiles down at me and slides his fingers into my hair, fists the strands at the back of my skull.

  "Kitten," he murmurs, the word little more than a breathy groan.

  The sound sends a little shiver through me, spurs me into action.

  With my hands anchored on his strong thighs, I lean forward and take him in my mouth. He exhales a faltering breath. The last few droplets of his come blend with the flavour of my pussy and coat the tip of my tongue—rich and sweet and salty. I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock and suck him deep down my throat. He moans his approval and sinks his other hand into my hair to join the first, guiding me as I slide my lips up and down his hardening shaft.

  Adam's eyelids droop, and his mouth falls open. "Georgia." The reverence in his voice as he breathes my name fills me with such warmth that I can’t help but smile—well, as much as I can with his cock in my mouth. But primal need quickly replaces his adoration, and he thrusts his hips, fucks my face. Just when I think he'll choke me on his giant cock, he forces me to my feet and drags me to the window.

  Spinning me to face the street, his voice is urgent, commanding. "Brace your hands on the glass, kitten."

  Ignoring the command, I turn back and lean into him, rake my fingernails over his abs and kiss a path heading down. "But I was enjoying sucking your cock."

  He yanks me back up, smacks my ass and turns me toward the window once more. "Do it. Now."

  I pout. "Why?"

  Brushing my hair aside, he whispers in my ear. "Because I want everyone to see how fucking beautiful you are when you come all over my dick."

  I brace my hands on the window and stare at our reflection, our skin glowing pink under the neon sign that stretches over our heads. "Everyone?" A frisson of panic—of excitement—shivers through me.

  Adam's reflection smiles back at me, a wicked gleam in his eyes as his fingers dig into my hips and he slides inside my pussy, sinking into my wet heat with a masculine groan. "You didn't really think I was the only one out there, did you, kitten?"

  Eyes wide, I try to see who's outside the laundromat. Adam chuckles, his laughter reverberating through my body as easily as the shock waves from his thrusting hips. With one hand holding me in place, he reaches under me to play with my clit, and suddenly I'm not wondering if anyone is out there anymore. Suddenly my focus is all on the man I know is in here. With me. Behind me. Our bodies slapping together with increasing force as he takes me from fantasy to reality as easily as flicking a switch.

  And speaking of flicking switches….

  The combination of Adam's cock in my pussy and his fingers on my clit pushes me ever closer to another orgasm. He pulls me upright, and I gasp as he pushes my body flush against the window, the force of his thrusting and the chill of the glass overstimulating my already-sensitive nipples. "Adam. Baby." My panted breaths fog the glass.

  "I've got you, kitten." He nuzzles the back of my neck, kisses and licks and sucks my flesh, adding to the sensations ricocheting around my body like a bullet. Pussy. Breasts. Clit. Neck. Hips. Pussy. Clit.

  Everything is spinning out of control.

  "Baby, please, I'm going—I'm going to come."

  "Come for me, Georgia. Let them see." Then he lifts my leg, hooks his arm under my knee and opens me wide for any prying eyes to witness.

  "Adam, yes!"

  My body undulates between him and the window, rattling the glass with the force of my orgasm. Barely a moment passes before Adam is right there with me, thrusting like a wild man and slamming himself into me like his life depends on it, crying out as he spills himself inside me. And as my orgasm slowly subsides, as my heart slows and my breathing calms, I can feel our passion trickle down my thighs.

  So dirty.

  So free.

  Adam pulls out of me and turns me in his arms, holds me close and strokes my hair. And we just stand there, sweaty, sticky and naked in the m
iddle of an all-night laundromat. The ridiculousness of the situation is underscored by the beeping of the washing machines as they finish their cycles. Our bodies shake with quiet laughter, the sound one of familiarity, of comfort. Of warmth. And that's how the rest of the evening passes.

  In the warmth of each other's arms, talking, fucking.

  Reading books and folding laundry.

  But now the sun is rising, its golden glow reflecting off the glass and steel of the buildings up and down the street, casting shadows across the concrete and the bitumen.

  The real world encroaches. It's time for us to go.

  I avoid his gaze as I finish dressing and finger comb my hair. "So… same time next week?" I bite my lip, my foot bouncing as I await his answer.

  "No. I don't think so," he says, hefting his laundry bag over his shoulder.

  While not completely unexpected, his rejection hurts. All the things he said, the things we did and—oh, God—the things we didn't do…. Like use protection. Fuck. I've never behaved so wild, so recklessly in all my life. But I thought… I thought—

  Georgia, you fucking idiot. What did you think would happen?

  With self-recrimination coursing through my blood, I force myself to breathe. "Oh."

  Back straight and body tense, I grab my bag and face the door, hot tears burning my eyes, but I can't get past the wall of muscle blocking my way.

  Hooking a knuckle under my chin, Adam lifts my face to his, wipes an errant tear from my cheek. His mouth is curved in a lopsided grin but lacks the cockiness of last night. "I don't want to wait that long to see you again."

  My heartbeat flutters, I suck in a lungful of air. Another flutter, and a smile stretches my lips. One I can’t stop. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. “Oh.”

  He pushes the door open, and we step out into the chill of the dawn. "There's a great café on the bottom floor of my apartment building. They do an all-day breakfast… if you're hungry?"

  Great sex and he wants to feed me? I swallow down a contented sigh. "Are they open this early?"

  "Nope." He slips his hand into mine and gives it a squeeze. "But I'm sure we can find something to do until then."