Home > Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(30)

Slow Ride (Fast Track #5)(30)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Be quiet.” Diesel squeezed her ass, his body already stirring to life with the feel of her splayed out on top of him. “Now kiss me.”

She made a grumbling sound of protest against his chest, but she did prop herself up slightly, and toss her hair back out of her face. “You’re bossy.”

“I believe we’ve already established that.” Nor was he about to change. Tuesday made him tight with need, determined to take her, direct what they were doing. It was his way of grabbing control when he wasn’t feeling it.

So he told her again, “Kiss me.”

But instead of being offended at the demanding tone of his voice, she just smiled down at him, tickling the whiskers on his chin. “You’re so cute. Why are you so cute?”

Way to make him feel badass. He had to admit though, it pleased him. She thought he was cute. That was kind of hot. Flattering. Sweet.

He didn’t want to think about it right at the moment though. He just wanted to feel her lips on his. So he took the back of her head and brought her mouth down onto his.

She sighed right before contact. It was a delicious kiss, the kind that made Diesel want to hang around in that moment for a good long while. Their bodies were warm pressed together, the scent of their earlier arousal still in the air, her hair tickling across him. It was easy to kiss Tuesday. There was no awkwardness, no jockeying for position. They just fit and he kissed her again and again, soft and tender yet purposeful. He was in no hurry to do anything other than tease her tongue with his.

But like he was fast learning, Tuesday had different ideas. She was already starting to bump against him, swiveling her hips to get the highest level of contact. He loved listening to her as she shifted from casual enjoyment to excited and determined. She bit his bottom lip at the same time she settled her legs more carefully on either side of his thighs. All that hot wetness making contact with his c**k had him groaning. She was just so damn juicy and so eager, her hand reaching down between them and taking him into her grip.

Diesel gritted his teeth when she took his erection and slid it along her moist inner thighs, then swirled it over her clitoris. He laid back and let her play, repeating the motion over and over, until his c**k was slick with her moisture and they were both panting in excitement. He loved that she had the confidence to just take what she wanted, that she could use him to please herself. It made her even sexier to him.

So he let her set the rhythm, let her get herself off until she couldn’t take it anymore, and she finally aligned him with herself and sank onto his erection.

“Yeah, baby,” he told her. “You feel amazing.”

“So do you.” Tuesday was leaning forward, propped up by both her hands on the bed, so low her br**sts were brushing against his chest.

He was going to force her to sit up but then he realized that Tuesday was already on the verge of an orgasm. In fact, she came right then, her hip undulating slowly, lips pursed together, eyes locked with his. She had taken herself right to the edge with his cock, and that was freaking hot.

“You like that?” he asked her, sliding his hands down over her ass. Damn, she looked good. She felt good. She tasted good.

She nodded, as she shuddered through the end of her orgasm. “Duh.”

He laughed. “Smart-ass.” He gripped her hips. “Sit up. You’ll like this even more.” Or at least he would.

“I’m too tired,” she said, her body languid, her intention to lay on his chest obvious.

But Diesel forced her to sit up, using the palms of his hands.

She made a noise of complaint, but he just swatted her backside again with enough sting to get a reaction from her. It was proving to be the most effective way to ensure her obedience.

“Hey,” she grumbled, using her hand to rub where he had just spanked. “That hurt.” But she did sit up, and she looked like it had renewed a bit of her arousal.

“I’m sorry,” he told her even though he knew he hadn’t hit her hard enough for it to really hurt. She just liked to grumble. Diesel thrust up into her.

She gave a soft gasp. “No, you’re not.”

“No, not really.” He held her by the hips and starting moving faster, working in tandem, lifting his hips as he brought her down onto him. The collision between them felt fantastic and he closed his eyes.

Then immediately changed his mind and forced them back open. He wanted to watch her on him. Tuesday, despite her complaining, was clearly enjoying herself. She had lifted her arms and was holding her hair back off her face. The position did great things to her br**sts, which bounced a little as he moved inside her. There was no reason not to just explode inside her, so he did exactly that, his fingers digging into her thighs, and a deep guttural groan wrenching out of him.

When he finally relaxed, dropping his head back onto the bed, trying to catch his breath, Tuesday collapsed back down onto his chest.

“Yummy,” she said, then yawned.

“Indeed.”

“You have a good penis,” she told him.

Diesel laughed. She said the funniest damn things. “Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t take any credit for it, but I appreciate it.”

“I like your tattoo.” Her finger ran up and down his side, lightly. “Very badass.”

“Thanks. I didn’t notice any ink on you. Not your thing?”

Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t ever imagine what I would want on my body permanently. I’m not opposed to it.”

Laying there was sticky and comfortable. Diesel felt his own yawn building up and he tried to squelch it. “You want a shower before we sleep?”

Her head lifted and she pulled a face. “Sure, a shower would be good, but I can’t sleep. I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry?” Was she serious? “It’s . . .” He glanced at his cell phone on the nightstand. “Two in the morning.”

“I want Chinese food.”

“Chinese food? Are you kidding me? You ate like three pieces of pizza and a whole bowl of chips.”

She peeled herself off his chest and gave him a cold raised eyebrow stare. “You got a problem with a woman who likes to eat? Would you prefer I be like Jonas Strickland’s wife Nikki and carry around a bag of lettuce as my go-to snack?”

Shit. He had sounded like an ass, hadn’t he? “No, of course not. I’m just impressed, that’s all. Most women wouldn’t be confident enough to order Chinese food at two in the morning.” He wasn’t sure that sounded right either, but what the hell was he supposed to say? He started sweating, trying to think of something better to say.

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