Alarm managed to break through Russell’s lust, and he broke away on a harsh groan, scanning her face to make sure he hadn’t killed her. Just one look and she killed him instead. Damp, swollen lips, face flushed pink . . . achingly beautiful. Like some untouched maiden sent into the woods to pick apples who had found herself ravaged by a wolf instead. That settled it. He’d have to sleep in the other bedroom. Abby, this moment, would never fade.
She shifted, and her belly dragged over his hard cock, ripping a growl from his throat. Her mouth fell open as if stunned by his reaction, making him frantic to kiss her again, so he banged his forehead against the wall and kept it there.
“You are attracted to me,” she murmured, voice husky in a way he’d never heard it . . . and tinged with that same relief he’d glimpsed in her expression before. Why the hell was she surprised by his wanting her? Didn’t she realize he’d walked out of her bedroom because it was for the best? Slapping her ass hadn’t been enough of a hint that he didn’t know a damn thing about being with a virgin? Or . . . making love? He wasn’t the kind of man she deserved. His tastes in bed were only one part of why he couldn’t make her happy. So maybe she needed a reminder. One that would leave no question unanswered.
“Abby, attraction is a weak-ass term for what’s going on here. It doesn’t begin to describe what I’d like to do to you.”
“Wh-which is?”
He placed his mouth against her ear, the truth coming out on a rush of breath. “I’d like to bang your little virgin brains out.”
Chapter 8
OH. OH, BOY.
Longing moved like smoke in Abby’s middle, wafting lower and growing dense. She should have slapped him across his face for saying those words, but some female intuition that had been sorely lacking in her life until this point stayed her hand, telling her a slap was exactly what Russell wanted. He expected her to be horrified and run from the house like a scandalized church girl. Too bad she wasn’t budging. Because the same way she’d always appreciated Russell’s rough-around-the-edges attitude toward her—the way he treated her like no one had ever dared—she liked the way he’d just spoken to her. A lot.
The evidence that Russell wanted her dug into her belly, no less big and swollen than when they’d been kissing. Seriously, could what they’d just done even be termed a kiss? Mouths participated in a kiss, whereas Russell had made it into a full-contact sport, rubbing their bodies together like he meant to start a fire with the friction, exploring her mouth as if he’d been starved for it.
Had he? His hot, rapid breaths against her neck told her . . . yes. This man she had so many confusing but exciting feelings for wanted her back. A wealth of shiny bubbles sailed through her chest. This was good news, right? Why had he stopped kissing her? She’d caught her breath and wanted more, darn it. But his posture was that of someone heading for the gallows. If he needed encouragement, she was all too ready to provide it. When he’d left her Monday night, her body hadn’t been ready to say good-bye. Neither had her mind. Both were tired of being in the dark about the unknown, so much that the unfulfilled ache worsened with each passing day.
So, encourage she would. And if Russell thought he was the only one who could shock someone, he had another think coming.
“Russell.” Abby ran a hand down his back, let it mold to the tight swell of his ass, the bold act ratcheting up her excitement another ten degrees. “Do you want to bang my little, virgin brains out on the floor or against the wall?”
His breathing cut off—he didn’t move—for what felt like hours. His erection remained ridged between them, though, so she didn’t give in to the urge to start rambling. No taking it back now, was there? Good. She didn’t want to.
Finally, he pulled back and drilled her with a look. “You sure as hell better not let me off the hook for saying that to you, Abby. You better get pissed, or else—”
“Or else what?” His gaze darkened in a way she’d never seen. It didn’t alarm her, though. No, they were on the edge of breaking past something, and she wanted to