Smug Bastard - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,40

cheeks, and I turned away from him, putting my cue stick back. I felt him before he even touched me; his massive build came in behind me, stilling me. Reaching over, he placed his own stick in the rack.

“Good win.” The texture of his voice shivered down my spine, my lungs hitching. His mouth brushed close to my ear, deepening my breath. “I’m impressed.” His hands touched my bare back, trailing slowly down to my hips. My lids squeezed wanting nothing but to step back into him. With every drink both our inhibitions had lowered, but still he had seemed very much in control. That was before the four double shots he took in a row.

“Kins?” He didn’t move, his fingers edging the waistband of my jean shorts. My voice locked in my throat, my head not able to find anything to hold on to, my sensations overwhelming me, feeling his touch like a beacon in darkness.

My veins were still buzzing from the jump, the sensation of his heavy erection pressing into my stomach, and the thrill in his eyes when he peered down at me. I’d thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to. Now I needed him to…

Letting go of any bit of logic in me, I stepped back into him. He sucked in, his hands sliding down my hips, propelling shudders through me. Overwhelmed by the intensity of my body’s reaction to him, my pulse thudded in my neck.

The base of the music thumped against my skin, the singer’s voice raspy and sensual, which only pushed me more in this world of dark desire.

“Kinsley…” he said low, his palms flattening on my hipbones, pressing me firmer into him. A breath gasped from my throat, spinning my head even more. Jesus, he was massive. Thick, hot, and pulsing against my ass. Not able to stop my reaction, I rolled back into him.

Need.

Want.

Desire.

“Fuck,” he gritted through his teeth, his fingers curling into the flesh of my inner thighs, right at the hem of my shorts. I bit down on my lip, the pulse in my core pounding harder than the drums in the music. There was no doubt he could feel it too. A deep growl hummed in his chest that heaved against my spine. His fingers slid under the tiny bit of fabric at my crotch, pumping the air in my lungs frantically. I didn’t move, wanting nothing more than him to continue. The tips of his fingers grazed the cotton of my underwear, tracing my folds.

“Oh god.” I could feel myself open, begging for more, not caring where we were or who was watching.

He huffed in my ear, rubbing a little harder, my lips parting, and my body already so revved I knew it would take very little for me to orgasm right here.

The idea struck the back of my head with shock. It was painfully difficult to get me off. My ex complained about it all the time. That I was too frigid. Too uptight. And a matter of seconds in a full bar, a lot of eyes on us, I wanted nothing more than Smith to make me come right there.

“Shit… you like this,” he mumbled against my neck, his thumb rolling over the bundle of nerves, making me moan lowly. “You like everyone watching.”

I didn’t respond, knowing that was enough of an answer.

“Fuck,” he hissed again. “Kinsley…” I could hear the plea, the hope I would stop him.

My head turned to him, his mouth skimming my cheek as I peered at him. His eyes were dark with need, like I could see all the way through to the things he wanted to do to me.

“We can’t do this,” he whispered, his hand still touching me, but he stopped moving.

“I know,” I said, even as my hips pushed against his hand, wanting more.

His lids squeezed shut, his throat struggled to swallow, and pain flashed over his features.

Buzzzzz.

His cell in his pocket hummed against my ass, feeling like a slap of reality, breaking the bubble we were in.

His hand slid away, the sensation sparking need and humiliation through me. What the hell were we about to do? Withdrawing his body from me, he stepped back with a heavy exhale. Tugging out his cell, he looked down at the number, his brow furrowing. “I need to take this.”

I nodded. Cold. Humiliated. Angry. Ashamed.

Glancing around the dark room, I saw several groups staring over at us in a mix of longing, shock, and desire. Some