Feeling Hot
Page 11
The pair finally went still, Dylan’s green eyes glazed as he pulled out. Vanessa sagged into Cash’s chest. Her tongue darted out to briefly taste one of his ni**les and then she lifted her head, those brown eyes hazy with desire. “I want you in me,” she said in a breathy voice.
She didn’t have to ask him twice.
He donned a condom, then took her hand and led her to the couch. The cushions bounced as she got on her back. A second later, Cash covered her body with his and plunged into her with one fluid stroke.
And then his cell phone rang.
He froze.
So did Dylan, who stood in the middle of the room, ditching his condom.
“You gonna get that?” Vanessa asked, looking annoyed that he’d stopped midthrust.
When a second ringtone didn’t join the first, both men relaxed.
Cash bent down to plant a kiss on her lips. “Naah. If we had to report in, both our phones would’ve gone off.”
“You’re good to go, McCoy. Resume the f**king,” Dylan drawled.
Ignoring the smartass remark, Cash brushed his lips over Vanessa’s and rocked his hips as he eased back into a nice, languid rhythm. Watching her brown eyes grow misty with pleasure, he realized just how pretty she was. High cheekbones, pouty lips, smooth olive-toned skin. She wasn’t as beautiful as Jen, but—
Uncool, bro.
Shit, what was he doing, thinking about another woman right now?
And why had his erection hardened to a whole new level the moment Jen’s face floated into his mind?
“Faster. God, I need it faster.”
Swallowing, he forced himself to focus on the woman beneath him, who was bumping her pelvis into his groin, trying to deepen the contact. He withdrew completely, slammed back in to the hilt, and gave the lady what she wanted. Hard, fast strokes guaranteed to drive them both over the edge.
It didn’t take long before he was coming in a hot, boiling rush. He shortened his strokes and dug his fingers into her hips as the orgasm burned through his body like wildfire. When Vanessa let out a throaty cry and clenched her inner muscles over him, the fire burned hotter, making his balls ache with exquisite agony.
Fuck, he’d needed that.
Once the pleasure finally ebbed, Cash caught his breath and gently pulled out. The haze of satisfaction fogging Vanessa’s eyes brought a jolt of matching satisfaction to his gut. He might not have given her his full attention by the end, but at least he’d gotten her off again. He still felt shitty, though, for tastelessly thinking about Jen during that one inappropriate moment. Vanessa didn’t deserve that.
Fortunately, Dylan was considering her feelings for the both of them. As Cash removed the condom and staggered to his feet, Dylan quickly took his place, launching himself at Vanessa, making her laugh as he nuzzled her neck and whispered something in her ear.
Sighing, Cash stalked naked across the living room to the spot on the floor where he’d ditched his pants.
It really f**king sucked, losing Jen’s number. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much fun with a woman. He’d been dying to see her ever since they’d parted ways at the Gaslamp Tavern two days ago, but he had no idea how to track her down.
You can’t. Deal with it.
Resignation fluttered through him and settled in his gut. Yeah, he really had to put Jen out of his mind. The chances of seeing her again were pretty much nonexistent, and as much as that sucked, he needed to face the facts.
With a weary exhale, he fished his cell phone from one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. A moan caught his attention, and his gaze drifted to Dylan and Vanessa, who were still tangled together on the couch. Gripping the back of Dylan’s blond head, Vanessa held him in place as he kissed her br**sts. Dylan’s mouth latched onto one dusky nipple, and he made a little growling sound of approval as he suckled her.
Despite his frustrated mood, Cash’s body responded to the scene in front of him.
“Ready for round two or are you heading out?” his buddy called when he caught Cash looking.
“Round two. Let me just check my messages.”
He glanced at his phone, cursing when he noticed the missed call flashing on the screen. Carson Scott. Shit, why was the lieutenant calling him? Did they have plans he’d forgotten about?
He was just punching in the code for his voice mail when the phone vibrated in his hand. Text message coming in. From…Carson Scott.
Frowning, Cash opened the message. Wariness crept up his spine as he skimmed the terse note.
NEED TO TALK. IMPORTANT. MY PLACE—NOW.
Well, okay then. That didn’t sound good. And all caps? Definitely important.
He shot back a quick text saying he was on his way, then cast a rueful look in the direction of the couch, where Vanessa now lay on her back, legs spread wide. Kneeling on the floor, Dylan had his head buried between her thighs, and from the throaty purring noises she kept making, she was clearly enjoying everything Dylan was doing.
So much for round two.
“Actually, I gotta go,” Cash announced.
Dylan lifted his head long enough to mumble, “See you later,” then resumed feasting.
Lucky bastard.
Stifling a sigh, Cash got dressed, grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Chapter Three
“Hey, man, thanks for coming over.” Carson gestured for Cash to enter the apartment.
As Cash stepped inside, he experienced a sense of disorientation. He’d been to Carson’s place a dozen times, for poker games and whatnot, but something felt off tonight. It took him a moment to realize that it was the smell. Or lack thereof. Every time he’d been here, Carson’s wife had been cooking up a storm, thrilled to use her husband’s teammates as guinea pigs for whatever recipe she happened to be experimenting with.
She didn’t have to ask him twice.
He donned a condom, then took her hand and led her to the couch. The cushions bounced as she got on her back. A second later, Cash covered her body with his and plunged into her with one fluid stroke.
And then his cell phone rang.
He froze.
So did Dylan, who stood in the middle of the room, ditching his condom.
“You gonna get that?” Vanessa asked, looking annoyed that he’d stopped midthrust.
When a second ringtone didn’t join the first, both men relaxed.
Cash bent down to plant a kiss on her lips. “Naah. If we had to report in, both our phones would’ve gone off.”
“You’re good to go, McCoy. Resume the f**king,” Dylan drawled.
Ignoring the smartass remark, Cash brushed his lips over Vanessa’s and rocked his hips as he eased back into a nice, languid rhythm. Watching her brown eyes grow misty with pleasure, he realized just how pretty she was. High cheekbones, pouty lips, smooth olive-toned skin. She wasn’t as beautiful as Jen, but—
Uncool, bro.
Shit, what was he doing, thinking about another woman right now?
And why had his erection hardened to a whole new level the moment Jen’s face floated into his mind?
“Faster. God, I need it faster.”
Swallowing, he forced himself to focus on the woman beneath him, who was bumping her pelvis into his groin, trying to deepen the contact. He withdrew completely, slammed back in to the hilt, and gave the lady what she wanted. Hard, fast strokes guaranteed to drive them both over the edge.
It didn’t take long before he was coming in a hot, boiling rush. He shortened his strokes and dug his fingers into her hips as the orgasm burned through his body like wildfire. When Vanessa let out a throaty cry and clenched her inner muscles over him, the fire burned hotter, making his balls ache with exquisite agony.
Fuck, he’d needed that.
Once the pleasure finally ebbed, Cash caught his breath and gently pulled out. The haze of satisfaction fogging Vanessa’s eyes brought a jolt of matching satisfaction to his gut. He might not have given her his full attention by the end, but at least he’d gotten her off again. He still felt shitty, though, for tastelessly thinking about Jen during that one inappropriate moment. Vanessa didn’t deserve that.
Fortunately, Dylan was considering her feelings for the both of them. As Cash removed the condom and staggered to his feet, Dylan quickly took his place, launching himself at Vanessa, making her laugh as he nuzzled her neck and whispered something in her ear.
Sighing, Cash stalked naked across the living room to the spot on the floor where he’d ditched his pants.
It really f**king sucked, losing Jen’s number. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much fun with a woman. He’d been dying to see her ever since they’d parted ways at the Gaslamp Tavern two days ago, but he had no idea how to track her down.
You can’t. Deal with it.
Resignation fluttered through him and settled in his gut. Yeah, he really had to put Jen out of his mind. The chances of seeing her again were pretty much nonexistent, and as much as that sucked, he needed to face the facts.
With a weary exhale, he fished his cell phone from one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. A moan caught his attention, and his gaze drifted to Dylan and Vanessa, who were still tangled together on the couch. Gripping the back of Dylan’s blond head, Vanessa held him in place as he kissed her br**sts. Dylan’s mouth latched onto one dusky nipple, and he made a little growling sound of approval as he suckled her.
Despite his frustrated mood, Cash’s body responded to the scene in front of him.
“Ready for round two or are you heading out?” his buddy called when he caught Cash looking.
“Round two. Let me just check my messages.”
He glanced at his phone, cursing when he noticed the missed call flashing on the screen. Carson Scott. Shit, why was the lieutenant calling him? Did they have plans he’d forgotten about?
He was just punching in the code for his voice mail when the phone vibrated in his hand. Text message coming in. From…Carson Scott.
Frowning, Cash opened the message. Wariness crept up his spine as he skimmed the terse note.
NEED TO TALK. IMPORTANT. MY PLACE—NOW.
Well, okay then. That didn’t sound good. And all caps? Definitely important.
He shot back a quick text saying he was on his way, then cast a rueful look in the direction of the couch, where Vanessa now lay on her back, legs spread wide. Kneeling on the floor, Dylan had his head buried between her thighs, and from the throaty purring noises she kept making, she was clearly enjoying everything Dylan was doing.
So much for round two.
“Actually, I gotta go,” Cash announced.
Dylan lifted his head long enough to mumble, “See you later,” then resumed feasting.
Lucky bastard.
Stifling a sigh, Cash got dressed, grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
Chapter Three
“Hey, man, thanks for coming over.” Carson gestured for Cash to enter the apartment.
As Cash stepped inside, he experienced a sense of disorientation. He’d been to Carson’s place a dozen times, for poker games and whatnot, but something felt off tonight. It took him a moment to realize that it was the smell. Or lack thereof. Every time he’d been here, Carson’s wife had been cooking up a storm, thrilled to use her husband’s teammates as guinea pigs for whatever recipe she happened to be experimenting with.
