Bungalow Nights - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,92

she did, rising off his cock. The beast inside him groaned, but Vance managed to let Layla set the rhythm. Her hips rolled as she rode, her sweet bottom high in the air as she came down on her elbows in order to kiss him. Vance went full crazy on that kiss, the meeting of their mouths and tongues carnal and wicked.

He caught her nipples between his fingers as her plunging hips became more frenzied. She broke their kiss, her breath frantic as he pushed into her wet warmth and said, “Touch your clit, naughty girl. Touch yourself and come for me.”

The dirty words put a hitch in her pace.

“Lick your fingertips,” Vance encouraged, his voice low and deeper than the dark. “Get them nice and wet and then circle yourself, honey. You know what to do.”

And she did it. He could make out the gleam of her arm in the dark, imagined the swipe of her tongue against skin. Her hand moved low and she hesitated. “Ride me,” he said, and he reached to the place where they were joined, farther spreading the soft layers to expose the small bud above. “Touch yourself right here and ride me. I want to feel you come all over me.”

With a little sound of surrender, Layla obeyed. Her body moved on his, her hand touched her clitoris, and Vance gritted his teeth at the absolute pleasure of her hot center surrounding him, sliding wetly on him, up and down, up and down, up and down.

There was no tenderness, no gentle sweetness, just the slap of their bodies and the harsh rasp of their breaths, and that animal hunger that rose and rose and rose. His body strained, desperately holding the beast at bay until Layla cried out and her internal muscles clamped on his cock, telling him she was at the precipice. He grabbed her hips then and jerked up into her in short, urgent jabs. Her moan was low, ratcheting his need for her body, for her response. He grunted, grinding up and into her one last time.

“Now,” he said, riding the edge. “Now.”

His need shattered as she did, fragmenting into a thousand points of sharp bliss that hurt so good. Groaning, Vance squeezed shut his eyes and let the delicious ecstasy of violent release pulse through his body.

Minutes later, he came to awareness as she rolled off of him. His head was spinning and he felt half-drunk and whole-certain. The beast was a possessive bastard that was no longer willing to be caged. “Don’t go far,” he said in its devilish voice. “This is your bed until the end of the month.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IT WAS NEARING MIDNIGHT when Baxter walked along the sand toward Beach House No. 9. As promised, he’d waited for the police, listened while Skye reported the incident then stuck around a little longer to help gather up the papers on the floor. Now he could collect his car from No. 9’s driveway and go straight home.

But instead of walking between the cove’s last cottage and its neighbor in order to reach his Beemer, he climbed up the deck steps. Addy had left the archives room before him, anxious to check on Layla. Baxter, in turn, found himself anxious to check on Addy.

It looked like everybody inside the cottage was already asleep, though. The windows were dark and—no, there were two small, odd glows coming from the living room. Curious, he strode toward it and peered through the glass of the sliding door.

A smile curved his lips. Addy. Curled up on the sofa. He knocked lightly.

Her head jerked up and she pressed the book she’d been reading to her chest. Damn. He’d scared her. He waved, hoping to ease her fear.

It worked. In seconds she was on her feet and at the door. She unlocked the thing and slid it back. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice low.

Without waiting for permission, he slipped into the room. “Making sure you’re okay.”

“Apparently,” she grumbled, “I survived the heart attack you just gave me.”

He grimaced. “Sorry about that. I peeked in to see if anyone was awake and was a little startled myself by your twin points of light.”

“Oh.” She put her hand up, touching the glasses she wore. A beam emitted from each side of the frame. “I was reading.”

“In the dark?” He sat near her spot on the cushions and patted her place. “Come sit down.”

“Why?” There was a frown in her voice. Suspicion.

“So we can

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