His gaze tracks over every inch of me. “I did,” he admits.
“You could have taken me to prom. You could have gotten to know me. You could have kissed me way back then. But you were a smug, egotistical jack?—”
He moves in close, dipping his knees so we’re eye to eye, making me forget what I was saying. My hands drop, and I stare into that intense gaze.
“I was,” he says. “But I couldn’t have gotten close to you. You wouldn’t have let me. Hell, you probably would have said no if I’d asked. Because youwereweird and creepy.”
My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open.
He nods. “On purpose. You did all of that to keep people at arm’s length.” He reaches up and cups the back of my head, bringing me close. “You can’t be mad that it worked, Badass. You didn’t want people to know you. You didn’t want people figuring you out. Give poor, trying-to-fit-in-and-figure-my-own-shit-out teenage me a little bit of a break, huh?” He brushes his lips over mine. “I promise you that I know who I am now and what I want. And you arenotgoing to scare me off now.”
Fuck. See? This is exactly what I was worried about. He does see me. He gets me. Sure, maybe it’s ten years later, but he understands me.
Why did I wave that red cape in front of this bull? I knew I was at risk for him doing something to make me like him, and want him, even more.
I’m such an idiot.
I push his pants down. “Shut up.”
“Whatever you say.” He starts to toe his boots off, but I stop him.
“No need for that.” I reach into his boxers and take his huge, hard cock in hand.
His breath hisses out, and he braces a hand on the wall as his eyes slide shut. “Jesus Christ, woman.”
I grin as I stroke him. “There, now you’re on board.”
“Oh, I’ve been on board.”
Suddenly I find myself up against the wall. His big hands are under my ass, and he’s pinning me against the wall like I weigh nothing.
God, I love his muscles.
“You’re too short,” he informs me. “This is our only option unless you’re taking me up to your bedroom. And for some reason, I’m guessing I don’t get to see yourcutelittle duvet or all thecoolthings on your dresser.”
“Seriously, Tucker, shut up.”
He laughs. Then he presses forward, the hot length of his cock right against my clit. “Reach into my right front pocket and get the condom.”
I do, ripping it open, then reaching between us. His hands are full, after all.
I push his boxers out of the way and roll it on.
His jaw is tight when I look up.
“You ready?” he asks.
I’m so ready. I’m wet and hot and sparring with him, even about our past, combined with this sweet, protective, knowing, but also demanding side of him just does something to me. I wrap my arms around his neck and tighten my thighs around his waist. “Ready.”
“Because I’d be happy to?—”
“Tucker, fuck me. Now.”
He doesn’t give me even one more second to think, or talk, or even breathe. He tilts his hips forward, sliding into me, thick and hot and hard.
So, I was the one who demanded that. I was also the one who felt how big he is with my hand. The fact that he stretches me fast and almost painfully at first should not be a surprise.
I gasp. “Tucker!”
