Holding Strong
Page 12
He stroked and... Yeah. She didn’t want him to worry about it, either.
Unless... “Wait.”
His hands curled, holding her more firmly. And given where they were, wow. She just might faint.
“What now?” he breathed near her ear.
“You have protection?”
“A rubber.” He nibbled on her earlobe, touched his tongue inside her ear. “More in my room if we get that far.”
More if we... This time, her “Okay” ended on a squeak as he readjusted to put his hand inside her panties.
“Mmmm,” he growled, his fingers already exploring lightly, opening her, playing with her. “You need me to take care of you first, don’t you, girl?”
Be strong, Cherry told herself. Tell him you’re a woman, not a girl. Tell him...
His finger worked into her.
“Yes,” she moaned, arching back against him.
“That’s good.” He stroked into her, deliberately teasing. “You’re nice and wet, but small, too. And since I’m not so small, I need to—”
“Armie told me,” she admitted, her thoughts mostly centered on how it felt to be held to his hard frame, his strong arms around her, his fingers doing those amazingly erotic things to her.
Denver stilled. Quietly, his tone off, he said, “Armie told you what?”
“That you’re big.” She wiggled her bottom against him, both to acknowledge his size and to hopefully get him back to stroking her. She was equally excited and a little nervous.
From head to toes he went as cold and hard as granite, then in one quick move turned her to face him again.
Her shoulders touched the wall and Denver leaned into her. “Why the fuck were you discussing my dick with Armie?”
The whispered question sounded more lethal than a shout. Accompanied with that look in his eyes, she couldn’t think.
“Umm...”
He waited with throbbing impatience, not budging, not asking again.
Man, she had a big mouth. “See...Yvette and I were talking.” Mostly it was her, pretty much mooning over Denver. But he didn’t look receptive to hearing that right now, so she did her best to summarize judiciously. “You know, about how nicely ripped fighters are? And Armie overheard us.”
Denver’s glittering gaze narrowed. But she wasn’t afraid of him. Never that.
She just really wanted to get past this so they could get back to what they’d been doing before she so badly misspoke.
Clearing her throat, she offered, “You know how Armie is.”
“I do,” he agreed in an unsettling whisper. “How well do you know him?”
“Well enough that I was only a little embarrassed that he busted us. He accused us—”
“You and Yvette?”
She nodded, but admitted sheepishly, “Mostly me.”
“Go on.”
“He said we were being shallower than men just because we appreciate how sexy you guys are.”
His jaw locked.
Very slowly, Cherry reached out until her hand cupped him through his jeans. Lips parting at the reality of his length and thickness, she wavered, for the first time wondering if maybe he was too big.
“You’ll take me,” he assured her, his voice low and rough. His eyelids went heavier, his mouth tighter, but he didn’t move away.
When she stayed silent, overwhelmed, he encouraged her, saying, “Go on.”
So she stroked him.
“No.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Get to the part where you and Armie discussed my junk.”
“Oh.” She would much rather explore him. “Armie overheard me talking about you and—”
He stopped her long enough to open his jeans, ease down the zipper, then carry her hand inside. Hot and sleek and big enough that her fingers didn’t quite circle him.
Like a flash fire, heat rolled through her.
Denver gave a soft growl, covered her hand with his own, and guided her in a slow stroke. After three deep breaths, he asked, “What were you saying exactly?”
How could he chat right now? She certainly couldn’t. “I don’t remember.”
“Cherry.”
Wanting the discussion over with, she shook her head. “Something about liking your shoulders and your thighs.”
He flattened his free hand on the wall next to her temple and just stared at her while enjoying her touch. “Still listening.”
“Right. So he, ah, suggested...” To get it over with before she fainted, Cherry blurted, “That you would happily give me a viewing, and that you were bigger than most.”
Unless... “Wait.”
His hands curled, holding her more firmly. And given where they were, wow. She just might faint.
“What now?” he breathed near her ear.
“You have protection?”
“A rubber.” He nibbled on her earlobe, touched his tongue inside her ear. “More in my room if we get that far.”
More if we... This time, her “Okay” ended on a squeak as he readjusted to put his hand inside her panties.
“Mmmm,” he growled, his fingers already exploring lightly, opening her, playing with her. “You need me to take care of you first, don’t you, girl?”
Be strong, Cherry told herself. Tell him you’re a woman, not a girl. Tell him...
His finger worked into her.
“Yes,” she moaned, arching back against him.
“That’s good.” He stroked into her, deliberately teasing. “You’re nice and wet, but small, too. And since I’m not so small, I need to—”
“Armie told me,” she admitted, her thoughts mostly centered on how it felt to be held to his hard frame, his strong arms around her, his fingers doing those amazingly erotic things to her.
Denver stilled. Quietly, his tone off, he said, “Armie told you what?”
“That you’re big.” She wiggled her bottom against him, both to acknowledge his size and to hopefully get him back to stroking her. She was equally excited and a little nervous.
From head to toes he went as cold and hard as granite, then in one quick move turned her to face him again.
Her shoulders touched the wall and Denver leaned into her. “Why the fuck were you discussing my dick with Armie?”
The whispered question sounded more lethal than a shout. Accompanied with that look in his eyes, she couldn’t think.
“Umm...”
He waited with throbbing impatience, not budging, not asking again.
Man, she had a big mouth. “See...Yvette and I were talking.” Mostly it was her, pretty much mooning over Denver. But he didn’t look receptive to hearing that right now, so she did her best to summarize judiciously. “You know, about how nicely ripped fighters are? And Armie overheard us.”
Denver’s glittering gaze narrowed. But she wasn’t afraid of him. Never that.
She just really wanted to get past this so they could get back to what they’d been doing before she so badly misspoke.
Clearing her throat, she offered, “You know how Armie is.”
“I do,” he agreed in an unsettling whisper. “How well do you know him?”
“Well enough that I was only a little embarrassed that he busted us. He accused us—”
“You and Yvette?”
She nodded, but admitted sheepishly, “Mostly me.”
“Go on.”
“He said we were being shallower than men just because we appreciate how sexy you guys are.”
His jaw locked.
Very slowly, Cherry reached out until her hand cupped him through his jeans. Lips parting at the reality of his length and thickness, she wavered, for the first time wondering if maybe he was too big.
“You’ll take me,” he assured her, his voice low and rough. His eyelids went heavier, his mouth tighter, but he didn’t move away.
When she stayed silent, overwhelmed, he encouraged her, saying, “Go on.”
So she stroked him.
“No.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Get to the part where you and Armie discussed my junk.”
“Oh.” She would much rather explore him. “Armie overheard me talking about you and—”
He stopped her long enough to open his jeans, ease down the zipper, then carry her hand inside. Hot and sleek and big enough that her fingers didn’t quite circle him.
Like a flash fire, heat rolled through her.
Denver gave a soft growl, covered her hand with his own, and guided her in a slow stroke. After three deep breaths, he asked, “What were you saying exactly?”
How could he chat right now? She certainly couldn’t. “I don’t remember.”
“Cherry.”
Wanting the discussion over with, she shook her head. “Something about liking your shoulders and your thighs.”
He flattened his free hand on the wall next to her temple and just stared at her while enjoying her touch. “Still listening.”
“Right. So he, ah, suggested...” To get it over with before she fainted, Cherry blurted, “That you would happily give me a viewing, and that you were bigger than most.”
