Bad Romance by Bonnie Bliss, L Kirk Page B

her.
    “We will. I just wanted to check on Clara, see how her day was going.” I smirked.
    Fire flashed in those expressive eyes of hers, and my cock jumped in my pants. Tamara giggled behind me and I thought it was the fact she was now tracing the outline of my hard-on through my jeans.
    That would be a negative.
    I was so hot for Clara being pissed the fuck off at me that I wanted to forget Tamara, throw Clara over my shoulder and remind her how she’d screamed my name last night. I wanted to know how that tight pussy felt clenching around my dick as it pounded into her.
    I could see that play out in my head as she opened her mouth to talk back to me, seem to think better of it, turn on her heels and start power walking away from me.
    Oh, fuck no.
    I got off my bike and turned to Tamara.
    “Leave!” I snarled.
    She threw out a very full bottom lip and shook her head at me.
    Yes, cause I really needed to deal with this clingy bullshit now.
    “Want to fuck later?”
    She nodded with a mischievous smirk.
    “Then get the fuck gone for about an hour. I have shit to take care of. Or you get nothing.”
    She sighed, slipped off my bike and huffed. “Fine! You owe me though.” She flicked her tongue over my bottom lip and walked way.
    I didn’t even watch her go.
    What the fuck was wrong with me? I always watched her go. She had the best ass I’d ever fucked.
    Instead my gaze was pinned on the back of Clara. Her hips swayed so gracefully I groaned and had to adjust my dick before I jogged up behind her. The woman must have felt me coming because when I was about a breath away from grabbing her shoulder to stop her, she spun on me and her tiny fist connected with my chin.
    Well, that wiped the smug smirk right off my mother fucking face.
    “What the fuck, Clara?” I yelled. I took a step closer, getting into as much of her personal space as possible.
    She didn’t back down either. We were both panting, our hands fisted at our sides. I watched her shoulder twitch and knew she wanted to take another hit at me. Her brows furrowed and she started to laugh. Not that happy-go-lucky shit like she was having a good time. This shit was maniacal.
    Fuck.
    I broke her.
    “You’re serious.” She took a step back. I didn’t let her run. Oh fuck no, I was right with her with each step. I glanced up quickly and realized we’d reached our homes. Clara was backing herself right into that tree. The tree that seemed to like to be the post of driving sexual prowess. “You really believe that it’s shocking I’d hit you.”
    I rubbed my jaw. It really didn’t hurt. She’d clipped me with those little hands I itched to feel on my skin again. She was so fucking soft and my body re membered that and ached for it.
    Another step. Closer to the tree.
    Oh, she was trapped so sweet.
    I wanted her.
    Fuck. This was bad. This was not part of the plan.
    “After the stunt you pulled today you really think you don’t deserve to be knifed in the gut?”
    I couldn’t stop that smirk. “Knifed? What are you, a character in West Side Story?”
    She opened her mouth, shut it, opened, shut, then she glared. It was so goddamned cute. I glanced up, tree, her back hit, I watched her eyes go wide, she sucked in a breath and I pinned her with my body.
    I could feel her heart pounding against my chest as I leaned into her. Shaking hands landed on my chest and she weakly attempted to push me away.
    “Stop.” Her voice quivered. She wouldn’t look up at me and that shy little act made me want her even more.
    “I’m not doing anything.” I leaned forward and nuzzled against her ear.
    There was no mistaking the tiny whimper that came out of her. Satisfaction coursed through me and I didn’t think about my next move when I grabbed her chin, lifted enough for me to go in, and my lips were on hers. I devoured her mouth like I was fucking starving. I nipped at her bottom lip. She let out a little sound, her lips parted and I plundered that fucking mouth.