Page 48

His hands came up, one braced against the wall by her head, the other sliding around her waist. Then his mouth was on hers.

Not careful this time.

Desperate.

She whimpered against his lips, every thought in her head scattering as he kissed her hard enough to push her back against the locker behind her. He pressed in close, huge and solid, heat pouring off him through his shirt. The wall was cool against her back, but he was all warmth and muscle and the rough scrape of stubble against her skin.

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as he kissed her like he’d been holding himself back for days. Like he needed her mouth beneath his, needed her close enough to prove she was breathing. His hand tightened at her waist, fingers digging in just enough to make her pulse jump.

Heat curled low in her belly. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she arched into him, wanting more contact, more of that hard, heavily muscled body against hers.

Jesus Christ.

This was such a bad idea.

Twisting away, she dragged in a breath. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

His mouth found the line of her jaw, then her throat, lips hot against her skin. “Doesn’t it?”

“No.” She swallowed back a whimper as his teeth grazed beneath her ear. “It’s just a reaction. To us still being alive.”

He lifted his head, eyes burning into hers.

“It’s a well-known thing,” she said, even as he kissed her again. “Survivors of disasters. They have sex because it makes them feel alive.”

A low growl rolled through his chest and into hers. “Shut the draanth up.”

Sliding her hand into the nape of his neck, she dragged his mouth back to hers.

Fuck talking or thinking. She didn’t want to analyze this. She just wanted him.

Her fingers found the collar of his shirt and she pulled. The cheap fabric stretched, seams popping as she yanked it open. She didn’t care. All she needed was her hands on his skin, and the heat of him beneath her palms.

Rann made a rough sound against her mouth, then his hands were on her coveralls. He didn’t bother with the zip. Just grabbed the front and tore it open, the sound of ripping fabric loud in the small room. Cool air hit her skin, and then his big hands were sliding inside, shoving the ruined coveralls off her shoulders.

“Impatient,” she let out a breathy laugh.

He growled something under his breath, then bent his head to kiss the curve of her breast above her plain bra. His stubble scraped against her skin, making her shiver. Then his mouth found her nipple through the fabric and she gasped, driving her hands into his hair.

“Off,” she demanded, shoving at his shoulders. “Get this off.”

He lifted his head just long enough to strip out of the ruined shirt, then his mouth was back on hers. She arched into him, bare skin against bare skin, the sensation so good it made her dizzy. His chest was hard, the skin over the heavy muscles scattered with scars she wanted to trace with her tongue.

Later. Right now she just needed him closer.

Her hands dropped to his belt and she yanked the buckle open before shoving his pants down over his hips. They caught on his thighs, but he kicked them free without breaking the kiss, stepping out of boots and pants in one impatient movement.

She blinked, then murmured in approval. He went commando.

Reaching down, she wrapped her hand around his cock.

Shit.

He was big. Bigger than she’d expected, even knowing how huge he was everywhere else.

Thick and hot and hard, the skin was velvet-soft over steel as she stroked him from root to tip. Something about the shape was different too, ridges or bumps along the underside she couldn’t quite identify with just her fingers.

She didn’t care. She wanted him inside her now.