Page 5

“You’ve just got short legs.”

Narrowing my eyes, I shook my head. “I might not want romance, but being mean to me isn’t an option, either.”

“There’s nothing wrong with short legs,” York said and reached for my jaw. “Your club president doesn’t seem to mind his tiny wife.”

“I’m not that short.”

“No,” York said and covered my lips with a hungry kiss.

His hands cupped my breasts, giving them a playful squeeze before his fingers plucked my nipples. I gave his nipples the same affection, making him groan.

Peeling away his mouth, York sucked at my throat before kissing my right nipple. I sunk my fingers into his soft, brown hair. York switched to my left nipple. We were jiving real nice until I reached for his cock.

Stepping back, York muttered, “You’re rushing me.”

“I’m horny.”

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you for months. I don’t want to rush.”

“I paid for the full night. Can’t you just get us off and then take your time?”

York cocked his dark eyebrow and asked, “How do I know you won’t run away once you get off?”

“I already said I paid for the full night. If anyone is leaving, it’s you. I’m planning to sleep here.”

“But I’m the one who doesn’t live here. You should give up the room to me.”

“We’ll share.”

“Sounds clingy.”

I glanced back at the pillows. “We can request more pillows and create a wall between us. I’ll only remember you exist when I need your dick.”

York surprised me with a grin. “You’re a batty woman.”

“No, I’m a crazy fox. Get your animal analogies right. But seriously, can’t you strap on a condom already and stick your dick in me? I don’t do foreplay.”

“I don’t, either, but you’ve got a nice body. I want to feel around and try things out.”

“Later,” I murmured as his praise soothed my earlier insecurities. “Now wrap up your dick. I’m not looking to be anyone’s mom.”

“You’d think you’d be worried about catching something.”

“For the love of God, stop with the sweet talking!” I cried and jerked my head toward the desk. “I’m wet. You’re hard. Stop writing me poetry and make this happen.”

York walked to the desk and tossed aside a few condoms before finding one he liked.

Resting on my back, I ran my hands through my hair. I missed the feel of my longer locks. I frowned at the ceiling and struggled with the reality of being vain.

“I like the shorter hair,” York said in his rumbling voice that seemed to roll up from deep in his chest.

I glanced over at where he’d finally dropped his briefs and stood with his cock wrapped up. My vulnerability disappeared at the sight of him, thick and ready.

“I hate it,” I mumbled about my hair while admiring his fine body.

York crawled over me and studied my face. “In the military, they gave me a buzzcut. My head is too fucking big for such short hair. I avoided mirrors until I was able to grow it out.”

Chuckling at his solution, I cupped his face. “You’re a handsome son of a bitch. Just don’t cry when I forget your name once we’re done.”