Thirty-Four

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"Want to explain what we're doing here instead of fucking in my bed?"

Chris' growl sends a chill up my spine and I swing to face him, grinning madly.

"Someone's a little testy..." I tease.

His hank whips out and latches onto my arm, dragging me into his embrace. Dropping his forehead to mine, he sighs. "I'd be less testy if I was inside of you."

"You've been inside of me plenty." I whisper, kissing him. Eagerly, his hand wraps around my neck and binds me to him. His scent pours over me and I shudder, sinking my arms around his waist. "Okay. Maybe not plenty."

His only answer is a wicked grin.

Did he really have to be the hottest thing walking? I want to strip him naked and run my tongue along every inch of his frame. Memorize it and do it again.

I'd never get enough of him. It wasn't possible. Especially considering how he'd demolished me last night.

My pussy still tingles, hungering for what only he can give me. Trapping me against the desk at my back, his lips glide across mine as his tongue delves past my teeth. It traces the contours of my mouth, fighting—and winning—the battle with mine.

Sagging into his form, I submit.

There's no other way to describe it. Every time he touches me, Chris Gatlin takes control. He takes it. Owns it. Relishes in it.

I'm unable to deny him anything. His desire is the same as mine—all-consuming. My breath jerks as the hand he cuffs on my neck tightens, slowing the blood flow in my veins. In response, I bite his bottom lip.

Cursing, he pulls away to nurse his bottom lip. Blood paints his fingertips and he glances back at me. "Brat."

Smiling sweetly, I nod. "You like it."

"Don't make me fu—"

"Well, shit, Princess." Charlie's voice cuts through Chris' sentence like a blade through flesh. "If I didn't know any better, I'd guess you two are fucking."

Chris and I share a brief look, but we neither confirm or deny Charlie's statement. He comes toward us quickly, swaggering with a salacious grin on his face. Despite the fact that I'd sometimes like to punch it off, it's good to see him.

"I was wondering when you'd reappear." I say, crossing my arms and leaning back. "What kept you?"

His face shutters partially, but he keeps the smile on his face. It's less easy, more forced, and it no longer reaches his clear blue eyes. With his slicked back blond hair, brushing the collar of his forest green t-shirt matched to a pair of dark wash jeans and boots, he's a regular citizen among the fray. Obviously, he was hiding in plain sight—wherever he was.

"Just a little side work for Ryker." He shrugs. "Nothing to worry about."

Chris raises any eyebrow, "Catrina?"

Chuckling, Charlie rolls his eyes. "Catrina."

"What about her?"

They trade a look, and now I'm the one left out of the conversation. Yet, they don't offer to fill in the blanks. Instead, they both cross their arms and pointedly look away.

Frowning, I turn to Chris and reach for his emotions. He's doing his best to curb his reaction by lowering his heart rate, taking slow measured breaths and slamming a lid down on whatever he's feeling. Nothing but lusty arousal courses through our bond.

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