Grieved Loss (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 3) - Page 41

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Seventeen

Calla

He was a party pooper.

Practically carrying me to the car, he deposited me in the passenger seat with a disgruntled breath. I fumbled for the seat belt as my head lolled to the side, staring up at those bright blue eyes as he swatted my hand away in annoyance

and took the seat belt into his own hands.

Stretching up with an arm, I touched my fingertips to his mouth.

Bubble butt. Pillow lips.

Everything about the man was a temptation. When his mouth dropped open in a moment of shock, he let go of the belt to fixate on my face as I touched him. With my finger caressing the flat tops of his bottom teeth, he nipped at it sharply until I withdrew with a pout. “You should be very careful, Tesoro. I’m not a man you should toy with.”

“I don’t know how to toy with a man,” I admitted with a whisper. The reality of it was like a crushing weight on my chest. A more experienced woman might have known how to play with Ryker’s attraction and gain freedom in that, but even in my happy haze of drunk sexual energy, I knew that wasn’t me.

That wasn’t us.

He’d chew me up and spit me out when he finished with me, and somehow he’d make me love every minute. Where there should have only been hate and frustration, all that remained in my buzz was the lingering effect of my attraction to a dangerous man I could never have.

Even if it seemed like I already did, we’d never stay.

Never last.

When he grabbed the seat belt and tugged it across me again, I leaned in and touched my lips to his cheek. He clenched his eyes closed like he wanted to ignore me, but he couldn’t when I snatched his arm up as he pulled away. That massive hand seemed so large in mine as I entwined our fingers and guided it to the neckline of my shirt. He swallowed, and I smiled at him as I guided his fingers to slip beneath the fabric and into my bra so he cupped the top curve of my breast.

“Calla,” he warned.

I pouted up at him. “Sunshine,” I whispered. “I’m your Sunshine.”

His eyes flared with heat at my acceptance of my nickname. “Sunshine, you’ll regret this when you’re sober.”

“Then let's make it worth it,” I whispered with a smile, guiding his hand further until the rough tips of his middle finger grazed the pucker of my nipple.

I gasped, feeling the touch buzz through my entire body like a fuse. To my horror, he pulled back with a groan and slammed the door closed before I could even react to his absence and the sudden shock of chilly air that filled the void he left. When he plopped into the seat, he swatted my hand away as I reached over to touch his denim clad thigh. “Stop that,” he said. “Before I stop trying to control this situation.”

“But Ryker,” I complained. “Why don’t you want me to touch you?”

“I want you to touch me. Not alcohol.” I flinched back, snarling at him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Of course. You have morals when it’s convenient for you. Taking me hostage and locking me in your home was acceptable. Putting me in a skimpy nightgown and putting your boxer covered dick-monster against my ass was peachy. But touching my freaking boob when I want it crosses a line. Got it.”

He smiled at my side, reaching a hand over to rest on my jean clad thigh. I immediately cursed the thick fabric from blocking the sensation of his skin on mine. I grabbed that offending hand, guiding it to the apex of my thighs in a desperate bid for friction. “Just fuck me,” I begged. The sound was needy and desperate, a combination I didn’t think I’d ever been before. I had no clue what the man had done to me, but I just wanted relief.

I wanted to know why his dick was a monster.

It earned me a swift swat against my core that made me cry out in shock. “Do you have any idea how much I want to throw you in the backseat and give you more than you bargained for? Stop trying to tempt me into something we’ll both regret, and be thankful that the long game is more important to me than getting inside you.”

I unbuckled my seat belt, diving across the center console to put myself in his lap as he stared up at me with wide-eyed surprise. My hands went to his belt, flicking it open before he stopped me with a tight grip on my wrists and tugged my hands behind my back. “We don’t have to get in the backseat,” I giggled.

He shook his head, trying to ignore me as I ground my center down against him. “Calla, I swear to fuck—”

“Do it.” I could almost feel myself sobering in the face of his control, but something in me wanted to test him. Wanted to push him to the limits and see just how far that control and the desire not to hurt me could be pushed. It was a dangerous game to play, but somehow seemed too important to our future.

“Take off my belt,” Ryker ordered and released my hands. I went for it immediately, pulling it through the loops and not for once stopping to consider exactly why it would need to be off.

Tags: Adelaide Forrest Bellandi Crime Syndicate Romance
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