HOW TO CATCH A BAD BOY

Chandler surged forward and took her mouth. Oh, he took it deep and sweet and hot and hungry. Endless, wonderful kisses that had them panting and sighing and moaning as her hands ripped at his shirt. He took pity, breaking away to tear it off. Her hands slid over his skin, wonderful and gorgeous and stacked with muscles.

Using his hands underneath her ass, he picked her up and stood, then moved to the couch in the sitting room area. He turned them so that she was underneath him on the couch. Once she was settled, those hands moved onto the waistband of her leggings as he peeled them off. They landed in a heap on the floor. Her underwear came next, his tongue coming out to lick along his bottom lip in a way that had her writhing helplessly while he stood and shucked off his pants and boxer briefs.

Before he came back between her legs, Chandler snagged his wallet from the side table and pulled out a condom.

She widened her legs so that he could settle his hips between them, and their hands greedily swept over all the places now bared to their eyes. After only a few minutes, she cried out because the twist of his hand that felt so dirty when she was fully clothed, had her damp with sweat and her toes curling against the couch.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured against her chest, kissing down along her ribs.

Elena’s hand found him, and he hissed loudly in pleasure from the pressure of her fingers and palm.

“Chandler, please,” she begged, arching her hips up.

“Soon, love,” he growled, pushing himself into her hand again. “I have one condom and no intention of rushing through a second of this.”

“Please, please,” she whispered against his mouth. “I can’t handle this anymore.”

He sat up, and she raked her fingernails down his abs as he ripped open the condom.

“I guess we’ll have to get creative once I get you upstairs, eh?”

Elena grinned, sitting up to drop a kiss on the edge of his hip bone. “I guess.”

Chandler came down over her again, hands bracketing her head on the couch. She pulled her leg up, her knee braced against his chest while the other wrapped around his hips. Slowly, he moved forward. So slowly, she thought she might die, in wordless, helpless, incredible agony. Her mouth was open, her neck arched back, a moan of pleasure trapped somewhere in her throat when he cursed so hoarsely that she found herself smiling.

For a moment, he wrapped her up in his arms and stayed like that. Just …

unmoving and frozen on a precipice that felt dangerous in how big it was. Like neither of them felt like they were ready for what might unfold when he finally started moving.

He lifted his head, and for a moment, she saw the bewilderment of what she was feeling mirrored on his face. This is different. This is big. Gently, he kissed her. And then, oh, and then, it wasn’t so gentle. It was perfect, full of rough hands and rough hips and seeking kisses and nips of her teeth along his shoulder.

Her body fell apart, a blinding, shattering, explosion at the exact moment that Chandler shouted her name. He slumped against her, his back sweaty, his arms tight and shaking around her overwhelmed body as she clung to him. When he finally lifted his head, his dopey grin had her laughing out loud.

Chandler shook his head slowly. “We’re about to get very, very creative upstairs.”

“Are we?” she could hardly form the words around her beaming grin.

“Oh, yeah.” He kissed her. “Or we will, when I can move my legs.”

She kissed him back. “I hope you know you’ll be carrying me up those stairs, big guy.”

His eyes were so happy, so satisfied, that her heart burned bright and warm like a coal. “I think right now, I’d give you just about anything you asked for.”

“A bed and you,” Elena said simply.

He hummed against her lips. “That I can do, princess. Hold on tight.”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

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Something out of the ordinary woke Chandler up the next morning. It wasn’t the sun streaming brightly through the wall of windows, and it wasn’t Elena’s delicious body draped over his chest. It wasn’t that he needed coffee, or even that Agnes was sitting up on the dresser staring at him with her creepy green eyes. Yeah, that cat probably saw things last night that she’d never seen before.

He grinned as he thought about all of them. They’d gotten creative all right.

There were so many things the human body was capable of that didn’t end in sex. And for hours, they’d explored all those things until she was limp and sweaty and begging him to keep his hands off her.

His back was sore. His thighs were sore. And if he pulled back the covers, he’d bet good money that Elena had beard-burn over half of her body from the things he’d done to her after they’d moved upstairs. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him if, on his death bed, he remembered the sounds she made when he feasted on her entire body until she was cursing at him, clawing at him, begging without an ounce of pride to pull her over the edge.

And turnabout was fair play because once her mouth and hands turned the tables on him, he was just as shameless in the things he’d begged of her. But no, none of that was what pulled him out of exhaustion fueled slumber late the next morning. The sound happened again, and he felt his brow pull down in a grimace when he placed it.

Thump. Scrape. Thump. Scrape.

Elena inhaled slowly as she woke, rolling over onto her back, arms stretching over her head. Chandler turned to his side and grinned at the picture she made. All her dark hair was tangled beyond hope, there were marks all over her chest and neck from my mouth, and the lack of sleep from the night before showed in the dark circles under her eyes. She was perfection.

He’d never felt this way after spending the night with someone. Not even by half. Somehow, he wanted her even more. Even as his errant thoughts tried to break through, take root, and convince him that there was no way she’d want more with him.