Impulsive by Jeana E. Mann Page A

 
    Thoughts of her consumed his day. The way she bit her lower lip before she came. How her skin smelled and the way her laugh stole his breath. All the different ways he was going to make her come when he got his hands on her. And those lips…
    He’d never kissed her.  
    The realization struck him with a jolt. They’d fucked. His hands had been all over and inside her body, but the two of them had never kissed on the mouth. The need to claim this piece of her became a matter of utmost urgency. He hailed a cab and tapped out a quick text to tell her he was en route.  
    When she didn’t answer right away, his chest constricted. Where was she and whom was she with? Did she still have lovers? Every time one of them came into Felony, he had to leave the bar to keep from punching them. He’d seen the way their eyes followed her, the occasional brush of their fingertips over her waist, and the shared secretive smiles. Especially Heath with his tribal tattoos and long, flowing brown hair. Tasha had let it slip once that he had an apadravya in his dick. Luke had seen them kiss a few times. Jealousy burned in his veins. Fucker. God, how he hated that guy.
    He found her on the roof, sitting beside the pool. Wisps of steam hovered above the water. She wore a tank top and bikini bottoms, legs and hair still damp from her swim. A small furrow formed between her brows when she saw him. She stood, avoiding eye contact, and grabbed a towel to dry off.  
    “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said. Her gaze flicked up to his. Those hazel eyes slayed him every time, like a sucker punch to the gut. “Come here."
    “No,” she said. “You come here.”
    The wet fabric of her tank top clung to the small swells of her breasts. The chilly air raised her nipples to tight peaks, revealing nipple rings. He knew they were there, had felt them during their hookups, but this time there was a chain stretched between them.
    “Is this for me?” He slid his hand over her taut belly until the chain grazed his fingertips and gave it a little tug. Her breath hissed out.
    “It’s for me,” she said. Rebellion glowed in the depths of her irises.
    “I like it. A lot,” he replied and tugged again. She groaned, her lips parting in a pant. His cock stiffened at the sound. He pressed against her. “See what it does to me?”
    Another whimper escaped her, drawing his attention to her mouth. Her lower lip was absurdly full, like a ripe plum about to burst. He leaned forward, took it between his teeth, and gently pulled. Her skin warmed beneath his hands. He cupped her breasts, thumbing the nipples, rewarded by their tight peaks. Watching her face, he slid his hand between her legs and fingered the piercing there. A needy groan erupted from her throat, low and seductive.
    “You said you’d show me this. I want to see it,” he said. He’d never seen her fully undressed, and he could only imagine how beautiful she was beneath her sexy clothing.
    Everything below his waist engorged with need. He thirsted for her kiss, for the taste of her on his tongue and the heat of her body against his skin. Her hands skimmed up his torso, stopping at his chest, fingers spread wide. He took her mouth with his in a deep, primitive kiss. The taste of beer lingered on her tongue and something sweeter like honey. They dissolved in a tangle of moans and clutching hands. He bent her backward in an attempt to draw her nearer, unable to be gentle, consumed by his need to have her.
    “Luke. Stop it.” She tore away from him, her words ripping him from near bliss.  
    “What? Did I hurt you?” He shoved his hands through his hair, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.  
    “I can’t do this,” she said and fled.

Chapter 9

    The expression in Tasha’s hazel eyes gutted Luke. Regret? Anger? What was the other, intangible thing in her gaze? Most of the time, he read her thoughts with uncanny accuracy, but tonight, he had no frigging clue. She