by Eva Ashwood
But I can’t exactly leave since they’re my fucking ride and I don’t have a car of my own. I can’t be in the main room with all of them for another second though, so I keep walking until I find the locker room at the back of the warehouse, down a long, dimly lit hall.
That will have to do. I walk in, slamming the door shut behind me while I try to calm down.
The door slams open again a second later, before I even have time to take a breath, and Sloan barges right in, still radiating his bad mood and looking pissed as shit.
“What the fuck was that?” he snaps, glaring at me like I’m some kind of misbehaving child.
“I could ask you the same damn thing,” I shoot back. “I was fucking winning, and you had to get all up in my business. Jesus, I don’t know why you can’t just stay out of things. I can take care of myself.”
Sloan laughs, but it’s a harsh, cruel sound that has no real humor to it at all. “Right. I’m not so fucking sure that’s true. You started the night off grinding on some handsy lech in a club and ended it by rolling around on the floor with your ass hanging out for every man in the place to see.”
“So what?” I demand. “Why the fuck does it matter to you?”
I step forward, not backing down for a second, not even in the face of his anger. He’s the kind of guy who seems like he’s used to getting what he wants and having people be afraid of him, but that’s not happening here. I don’t care if he’s angry. I’m just as pissed off. More, even. The adrenaline from the fight is still there, pushing me to finally have it out with Sloan for being a controlling, overbearing dick when no one asked him to.
There’s something wild and feral in his icy gray eyes, and it’s not just anger, I don’t think. The tension that always seems to surge between us when we end up arguing rises up like a force of nature, and I don’t back down from that either, leaning right into his space and letting the feeling carry me along.
“What the fuck is your problem, Sloan?” I press. “You don’t like other men looking at me? Well, that’s too fucking bad. You don’t own me, and I can do whatever the hell I want.”
I give him one last look and then march past him toward the door, ready to go back out there and prove it. Baldy’s probably up by now, and if he isn’t, I’ll wake him up and make him give me another go.
I don’t get that far though. A hand wraps around my wrist, tight as a vise, and Sloan yanks me back around to face him.
Our chests press together as I slam into him, our bodies colliding. My chest is heaving as I breathe through my anger, and Sloan’s in the same boat. I can practically feel his pulse racing, and I know he can feel mine too.
The air is thick with the tension, snapping like lightning right before a storm. We stare at each other for a long moment, frozen in place, our eye contact charged with the same energy.
And then suddenly, he lunges forward and smashes his lips against mine.
That’s the spark that lights the flame.
That’s all it takes to burn us down.
I gasp softly in surprise but kiss him back. My hands go to his chest, fisting the fine material of his shirt and not giving a shit about leaving wrinkles behind.
We kiss wildly, viciously, as if we’re each fighting against whatever this thing is and losing. His mouth tastes like whatever he was drinking, something smoky and dark and all too tempting, and even though I’m mad as hell at him, I can’t help the way my body seems to fucking crave him. I want his hands on me. I want him to kiss me until I can’t see straight, and I can’t deny it anymore with him right there, giving me everything I’ve been holding back on.
The roar of my blood in my ears is even louder now, and I give in to it, pulling Sloan closer to me and giving as good as he does.
Even this is a battle of wills, because of course it is. We each fight for the upper hand, wanting to come out on top. I can taste the anger on his tongue when he shoves it into my mouth roughly, can feel the frustration coiled just under his skin, and it echoes the same feelings in me.
Arousal, irritation, and lust in equal measure.
I want to punch him right in his stupid face for being a surly, controlling asshole, but at the same time, I want to keep kissing him. It stokes that fire in me, and I groan into his mouth as we crash around the small locker room, stumbling into walls and barely avoiding tripping over the benches.
Sloan kicks over a trash can as we pass but doesn’t stop to look. He has his hands on my lower back, and then they slide lower down to my ass, gripping hard through the thin material of my dress and panties, fingers digging in like he’s staking his claim. At the same time, he bites down on my lower lip, tugging on it a bit, drawing pleasure like a sharp line through me as I gasp and arch closer against him.
I moan deeply before backing him up against the side of a locker and leaning up onto my toes to kiss him even harder, chasing his tongue with my own and teasing it until I can feel the tension in him ratchet up even higher.
He growls under his breath. We’re both breathing hard, but neither of us seems to care very much about that, and neither of us is backing down either. It’s not in our natures.
And for better or for worse, that translates to being really fucking hot in this scenario.
Sloan flips our positions, slamming me hard into the wall as his kisses trail from my mouth down to my neck. I can’t help the gasp that spills from my lips, both from being pushed so hard and the way his mouth lights up the skin of my neck like electricity right there on the surface.
I’m wet. I can feel arousal soaking the crotch of my panties. Just his hands on me, his mouth on mine and on my neck have me already panting and hungry for more, and there’s no hiding that.
When I look down Sloan’s body, he can’t hide his arousal either. His cock is already tenting his pants, and I want to grind against him and feel how big he is.
Sloan, in typical fashion, doesn’t give me the chance. He kisses his way back up to my mouth, capturing it in another searing kiss that I can feel all the way to my fucking toes. He grabs my upper arms and hauls me over to the corner of the room where there’s a sink built into a counter with a small, dingy mirror above it.
Before I can say anything, he pushes me over the counter so my ass is out and on display for him. With no shoes on, I have to go onto my toes slightly to keep the cheap plastic material of the counter from digging into my belly, and I know that puts my ass up even more in his line of sight.
“Fuck.” Sloan swears under his breath, his voice harsh and ragged. When I glance up into the mirror, I can see him behind me, staring a hole through the back of my dress.
He wastes no time from there. His big hands find the hem of my dress, and he shoves it up over my ass, baring it all for him.
“Fuck,” he says again, and this time he sounds angrier, but like he can’t tell if he’s mad at himself or mad at me. The muscles in his cheeks ripple as he clenches his jaw. “You have no fucking idea what you did to me. Seeing you rolling around up there, ass out. You got me so fucking hard.”
He’s put out about it, clearly, but even the pissed off tone of his voice can’t negate how hot it is to hear him say shit like that.
The low growl of his voice washes over me, almost like something tangible, and I can imagine him sitting in his chair glaring daggers at me while trying to hide how turned on he is. It’s a hot image, if I’m being honest.
I swallow hard, but I’m never one to let a situation get out of my control. I’m not going to go to pieces just because of some dirty talk.
“Is that what your problem is? I thought you were so pissed off about my ass hanging out because it was unladylike or some shit,” I taunt him. “Turns out, you just couldn’t handle seeing it and were about to come in your pants like a fucking teenager.”
Despite my rude words, my voice is strained, and I know he can hear how close I am to unraveling. All my calm collectedness—as little as I had to begin with—has flown out the window, and all I want is
for him to touch me or fuck me or something.
I won’t beg for it, but it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to get on with it, because being bent over and on display the way I am is doing nothing but turning me on more.
Sloan just snorts at my taunt, not seeming to give a single shit about what I have to say. He’s staring with single-minded intensity at my ass, and I’m sure with the way my legs are spread to keep my balance, he has a great view of how wet my pussy is through my panties.
He groans. I’ve never heard anyone make a groan sound pissed off before, but Sloan has a talent for that shit, clearly. He drops down behind me, disappearing from the mirror, and I feel his fingers tugging my panties down so they wrap around my knees.
I hold my breath, and when those fingers probe at my wet pussy and spread the folds so he can have a better view, I suck in a lungful of air, immediately getting wetter.
There’s one last muted curse from Sloan, and then he dives in, the flat of his tongue licking a searing hot line against my pussy.
He holds on to my thighs in a grip like iron, and I couldn’t get away from him even if I wanted to. With him behind me and the sink in front of me, I’m trapped, and there’s nothing to do but let him have what he wants.
What we both want, at this point.
His mouth is hot and wet, but not as wet as I am for him. He uses that grip to keep my legs open, and the panties around my knees won’t let me spread them any wider. So I have to take what I can get, but I’m not complaining. Especially when Sloan slows his licking, teasing the edges of my entrance with the tip of his tongue in a way that sends shocks of pleasure through me.
I glance up, and I’m met with my own reflection.
My hair is a mess from the fight and the kissing, and I have to blow strands of it out of my face. My eyes are dark, an almost emerald green from the lust working its way through my body, and when Sloan trails his way down to flick his tongue against my clit, my lips part.
They’re red and slightly swollen, and I know I look like I’m desperate for more. I half wish I could see Sloan’s face, see how he looks when he’s behind me, eating me out like I’m his last meal, but maybe it’s for the best that I can’t.
His fingers dig into my skin hard enough that I’m sure I’m going to have bruises tomorrow, and I can’t bring myself to be mad about it. Not when he’s lapping at me, working his tongue over my pussy in slow licks that alternate with a few quick ones.
“Sloan,” I breathe, saying his name and almost wishing I could take it back.
It would be impossible for me to pretend that I’m not into this. He has a front-row seat for how fucking wet I am, and he can taste my arousal, I know. All the reasons I had in my mind about why this is a terrible idea are slipping away with every lick, every time his tongue passes over my center, and I wish he would slide inside it. All I can think about is how good it feels, and how I want more.
“Sloan,” I moan again. “Fucking—stop teasing me.”
He just snorts and doesn’t do anything to speed up or slow down his pace. He stays on target, licking and sucking at my sopping wet folds, swirling his tongue around as he gets the lay of the land as it were and makes himself comfortable between my legs.
It’s a steady pace, designed to keep me turned on and needy, apparently, and it’s fucking working.
I push my ass back, trying to get him deeper, grinding on his face a bit, and he reaches up and slaps my ass in reprimand, the sound echoing around us in the otherwise empty locker room.
My moan echoes as well, and he dives back in, tongue dipping and swirling and laying claim while I shudder above him, fingers scraping against the smooth surface of the counter.
The sink is cool against my skin, a contrast to the heat of Sloan’s mouth and the scrape of his stubble as he works himself deeper, licking into me finally.
I groan with relief, and each time his tongue slides in, I imagine it’s something longer and thicker. Maybe after this it will be.
He fucks me with his tongue, spearing it in deeper and deeper, as deep as it will go, and I shake and nearly scream with pleasure, throwing a hand over my own mouth at the last second so it doesn’t give us away. The rest of the gathered members of the gang are just down the hall, and if they hear me screaming, there will be no hiding what it is we’re doing in here.
I don’t know if Sloan wants that, but I sure as hell don’t, so I try to keep my moans muffled. But it’s harder than it should be with him going to town on my pussy like it’s a feast.
I can hear the wet sounds of him lapping at my pussy, and it just adds to the debauched filthiness of this whole thing, the echoes of it bouncing around the room and mingling with the harsh rasp of my breathing.
Sloan’s tongue retreats from inside me, and I frown and nearly look over my shoulder to tell him to get back to it.
Instead of withdrawing completely, though, he takes one hand from my thigh and slides it between my legs, letting his fingers glide through the wet mess I’ve made. I swallow hard, trembling a bit at how good that feels, and when those rough fingers find my clit, my knees nearly buckle.
It feels so good. It feels better than good, and my mouth falls open on a silent groan. He pushes his tongue back into me, licking me open with an aggression that’s sexy as fuck.
His fingers move in time with his tongue, and it’s almost too much. Almost. His mouth doesn’t let up, and his fingers rub maddening circles against my clit in a way that whites out my brain for anything but the pleasure coursing through me.
It’s impossible to ignore the way it takes over everything else, washing away the anger, the frustration, the need to keep quiet. It’s so much, building and building until I can barely hold it in or hold it back.
Not that Sloan cares. He just keeps going, his mouth working overtime as he eats me out, his fingers moving with precision like he knows exactly where I’m the most sensitive and how to get me off. I’d be impressed if I had enough brain function left for anything other than attempting to process how good this feels.
His free hand comes up from my thigh to grab at my ass, spreading me open even more, making it so there’s nowhere Sloan can’t reach, and he takes full advantage of it, licking me like he wants to savor every drop.
“Fuck yes,” I pant. “Just like that. Fucking—god, yes.”
I can feel my orgasm building, starting with a searing heat in my core that spreads out, taking over my body. My legs shake and tremble just a bit, and if it weren’t for the sink counter, I don’t think I’d be able to stay standing. I don’t know if Sloan can tell how close I am, or if he’s just determined to wring every drop of pleasure he can get out of me, but he doesn’t slow down even a little. He growls low, the sound lost in the wetness of my pussy, and he presses his fingers harder against my clit, rubbing it faster while he keeps working his stupidly talented tongue.
My mouth falls open, and I almost forget to breathe as sensations spike inside me. The pleasure is like a freight train barreling down on me, making it impossible to ignore as it sweeps me up and builds higher and higher and higher.
“Ahhh!”
A breathy whine pours from my lips, and I clamp my hand back over my mouth again, keeping the noises of my pleasure from getting too loud as best I can. It’s so good, and I’m so close. I try to tell Sloan that, but I can’t. I can’t make any words come out of my mouth, and before I’m even able to brace myself for it, my orgasm hits me with full force. It knocks the wind from my lungs as I give in to it, head dropping low so I can’t see myself in the mirror anymore.
My legs shake even harder as I fall apart, panting and still trying so desperately not to make too much noise as I come harder than I can remember coming in a while. I bite down on my palm to muffle the scream, but it still echoes a bit, just enough that Sloan will clearly know how easily he took me apart.
I’d be pissed about that, but it feels too good for me to fully care. The waves of pleasure keep washing over me, and I strug
gle to catch my breath as the sharp, hot sensation melts into something warm and sweet in my veins, washing away the lingering adrenaline and replacing it with something milder, more like satisfaction.
Sloan is still his same intense self, of course, and he doesn’t give me a moment to relax. He surges to his feet and hauls me up by the back of my dress, then spins me around to face him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and I can see my own arousal shining on his lips and cheeks from where his face was buried against me.
He looks like he’s nowhere near done, that hunger burning in his eyes growing like a thundercloud around him. He looks like he might fuck me right here and now, against the sink, with no regard for its structural integrity, and I want it.
Fuck, I want it.
I don’t even care how insane it is.
Before I can say anything, he’s pulling me in and kissing me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips, on his tongue when he slides it into my mouth and lets it tangle with mine. That tangy taste of my own arousal mingles with the flavor of his mouth, making liquid heat slide through my veins.
It’s hotter than it really has any right to be, and I moan into it, pressing closer against him, seeking out more.
It’s nothing like the furious making out we did before, throwing each other against lockers and walls. There’s not quite as much hate and spite in this kiss either. It’s not a battle of wills. Instead, it’s deeper and more… something. I can’t put my finger on it, but it stokes the fire inside me and has me grinding forward against him, wanting more even though I just came.
I don’t want to think about the specifics or whatever feelings are lurking under the surface. I just want to focus on the feeling of his body against mine, the way he’s hard and firm, and not just because of his musculature. When he jerks his hips forward, I can feel the press of his cock in his nice pants, and my mouth waters.
I want to see it. I want to touch it and feel it inside me. All the denial from the last couple of weeks is coming crashing down around me, and I’m so close to demanding he give me what I need. It’s my turn to growl into the kiss as it heats up, fingers sliding down his chest and stomach to the fly of his pants so I can undo them and pull his cock out.