Burn Page 8

  Nodding, Mila’s stare remains on mine, drops of snow glistening on her lashes as they lower and she breathes, “Okay.”

  I grin. “But you have to ask first.”

  She stares at me like I’m some kind of delusional fuck. “Ask what?”

  I lick my lips, slowly, my mouth pulling up at the edges. “Ask to come home with me.”

  She gives me an eye roll and takes my hand. “You and I both know you’re going to take me home regardless of me asking.”

  I refuse to go, and stand my ground, my hands in my pockets again. “No way. You need to ask.” I’m pretty determined when I want to be, and I think she finally sees it.

  She whirls around in what looks to be a practiced ballerina move and drapes her skinny arms over my shoulders. “Oh baby,” she shrieks loudly. “Please take me home with you!”

  I should mention she yells this in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s pretty late, but still, people look at us like we’re just a bunch of drunk fools.

  “I’ll take you home, sweetheart!” some guy hollers across the street, holding his hands up in the air.

  “Shut the fuck up!” I yell, grabbing Mila’s hand, trying to keep myself from running across the street and beating the crap out of that motherfucker still yelling. “Okay, don’t beg. I’ll take you home with me.”

  Mila lets go of my hand and hooks it around my arm, walking with me up the street. “Was that really necessary?”

  “Oh yes.” My arm tightens around hers. “Completely necessary.”

  “Sure it was.”

  I wink. “Paybacks for the french fries.”

  IT TAKES US a minute of running in the snow to my apartment. I live two blocks and around the corner from Lil Woodies in the Excelsior Apartments.

  Mila points to the sign and stops on the sidewalk next to a parking meter. “Is this your apartment building?”

  Looking up at the sign outside the building, I nod. “Yeah.”

  She giggles sweeping her hair to one shoulder. “Dude, it looks like the sign to a strip club.”

  I don’t laugh. Mostly because I’m a little sensitive to the word strip these days. But she’s right, with the way the X is the only thing lit up on the sign, it does look like an advertisement for an X-rated club. Believe me, we’ve had plenty of mistake drunk fools in the lobby a time or two.

  With my hands in my pockets, I smirk and press the Up button on the wall. “It’s not a strip club.”

  Once inside the elevator, I lean my back into the wall.

  In front of me, Mila’s adjusting her hair, running her fingers through the long wavy brown strands.

  I can’t wait to have my hands wrapped around that.

  When she’s done, she doesn’t turn around. Instead, she stands facing the doors, her arms wrapped around her waist as if she’s cold.

  She’s not going to make a move. Huh. I would have thought after what I did on the dance floor, she’d be all over me, but hey, I guess maybe she was right. She needed to sober up. But then why’s she in the elevator with me going back to my place?

  Stop thinking.

  I gaze at the ceiling and realize why I chose the elevator. It moves at the pace of a turtle and barely anyone ever takes it considering there are only five floors, and you can walk to the fifth floor before the elevator makes it. But, this gives me some time with her.

  Make a move, dumbass.

  Swallowing, I clear my throat and stare at her ass first, so fucking cute and round, perfect. She’s in front of me and if I could see her face, I think I know the look. It’d be the one she wore all night, like she wants it, she’s just afraid to ask for it until I provoke her a little. I have a feeling she doesn’t like to ask for anything when it comes from a man but you know, she could surprise me on this one.

  I take a step toward her. “You’re killin’ me,” I whisper, letting the words close around her.

  I know the moment they hit her because her body tenses.

  Before she can say anything, my mouth presses to the curve of her neck with a desperate edge I can’t control. My body hums with desire, a need I can’t quite grasp. I’m dying to be inside of her. I suppose three months of being without can make you a bit crazy. Or maybe it’s that I got her off earlier and the hard-on I had then hasn’t really gone away.

  I want her and having to sit through that entire meal thinking about that tiny moan she made when she came, and the heat between us even now has my body on fire. It’s a need I can’t turn off any longer.

  The second she twists in my arms, her burning mouth scorching mine, I lose myself in her. I knew as well as anyone you can only deny yourself something for so long before it becomes a need.

  With my hands on the backs of her thighs, I pick her up.

  A groan rumbles in my chest, low and deep, when the heat of her pussy causes my cock to jump in anticipation. Turning us around, I slam her against the wall of the elevator, a little rougher than I want to, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  My chest is against hers, the rise and fall of every breath felt in mine. Her hands find their way around my neck like they did when we were dancing.

  My feet squeak against the floor, attempting to find proper footing when she wraps herself around me, legs and arms, wild motions, scrambling to get closer when my hips come in contact with her center. With a soft moan, she digs her heels in my ass, trying to make my press harder into her, needing the contact and to know how much I want her too.

  Dropping my head to her shoulder, I shake it back and forth. I grind into her, hard and unyielding like I’m about to be all night long when she gasps at the contact.

  I can’t see her face. It’s now buried in my neck as she shamelessly lets her pussy slide along my length and it’s the greatest fucking feeling in the world.

  I drive her motions, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other on the back of her neck as I sweep her hair from her shoulder, my mouth persistent on her kissing me. Right now. But she doesn’t.

  We rock against one another, lost in the moment, the pleasure shooting through our bodies. With each thrust of my hips against hers, she’s that much closer to falling apart on me, and I’m that close to coming in my fucking pants.

  Encouraging her to seek out what she’s looking for again, I angle my hips to give her the right pressure and position. My eyes are low, watching our movements when a moan of pleasure escapes her lips. My stare jerks to hers.

  Fucking hell. Did she come again?

  Up until now, I haven’t kissed her, believe it or not. I wanted to a handful of times on the dance floor, and my mouth was certainly close enough, but it hadn’t happened.

  Her breath pelts the side of my neck when I draw her back a fraction of an inch, and then her eyes open to mine, a beautiful blue so clear with desire it can’t be mistaken for anything else.

  Goddamn, she’s so fucking beautiful.

  I don’t ask permission. Her eyes tell me I don’t need to, lustful and hooded as she arches her back, angling her hips to make more direct contact as she grinds herself into me. She may not be asking for anything, but when close, she certainly has no problem doing what she wants.

  Dipping my head forward, I glide my tongue over her collarbone, and then higher, over her jaw, making my way to her lips.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.” I growl in frustration, pausing about a half an inch from her face. I lift my eyes to hers, waiting on her reaction.

  I can feel her breath move over me as she whispers, “Please.”

  Once our lips touch, it’s everything in my power not to attack the poor girl. There’s a moment when I want to slam her against the ground and fuck her, but I don’t because that might scare her and I really want this a little longer than a quick fuck in the elevator.

  Vaguely aware I’m almost out of time, out of the corner of my eye I can see we’re halfway up and it’s a fuckin’ miracle the door hasn’t opened yet. Apparently not a lot of people are out at three in the morning.


  When my lips meet hers, that’s about the extent of the gentleness. I sweep my tongue over the seam of her lips, requesting permission and she grants it right away, parting her lips with a sigh.

  The sensation of her tongue meeting mine, the way she gives the smallest of moans into my mouth, my body reacts, and I press her harder against the wall, dragging her over my length like I’m some kind of teenager dry humping his girl when his parents are in the other room.

  My tongue swirls with hers and then I catch her bottom lip between mine, sucking softly and then biting down on it with the slightest bit of pressure.

  “You taste like apples and onions,” I tell her, smiling. It’s the sweetest combination though, and it only turns me on more.

  She smiles, too. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” My wild eyes find hers. “I fucking love it.”

  “You taste like chocolate.”

  “Mmmm,” I hum, capturing her lips once more.

  The lights of each floor are flashing beside my head as the elevator makes its way to the fifth floor, a reminder I’ll have her in my room in minutes.

  Needing a breath, Mila tosses her head back, breaking the contact our lips make, her body trembling. “Jesus Christ, Caleb.”

  Those words go straight to my cock. I can’t wait to have her screaming my name in my bed.

  Mila’s hands grip the front of my jacket, fingertips fisting in the fabric, her legs tightening around my waist. My left hand cups her cheek to deepen the kiss, my mouth giving everything and then so much more. There’s something between us that had been building since she sat on my lap. Now we’re alive with temptation, we can’t resist any longer.

  Parting myself from her, it’s not even a cognizant option. So I continue because honestly, my dick is seconds away from jacking its load in my pants and I want it just as badly as she does.

  I’m certainly not going to let myself come here. I need to be inside her first.

  Needing a breath, she draws back and stares at me, her pink cheeks evident of the heat between us, wet strands of her hair sticking to the side of her face.

  “How many more floors?” she asks between kisses, panting.

  Side-eyeing the number on the wall to see how much longer, my hands on her hips, I grip them tighter. Told you it was the slowest fucking elevator of all time. We’re only on the second floor.

  “Three,” I say, words flying from my mouth in a rush to make her see I need her so much more than I can convey here.

  It’s honestly ridiculous. And kind of embarrassing. Owen would throw up if he saw this and tell me to get my act together.

  My mouth makes its way back to hers, unable to stop with the kissing.

  She responds, lips moving against mine and I lose myself again, for the briefest of seconds when she pushes back on my shoulders, but I don’t hear anything she’s saying to me. It’s like the words are muffled beneath my need and I’ve lost all aspects of reality around me. All I care about is what’s coursing through my body, and if I break contact, I may not get it back.

  I hadn’t noticed until now, but the elevator door had opened at some point and stopped on the fourth floor. Despite this, I keep kissing Mila because I have absolutely no intention of stopping.

  “Caleb,” she mumbles, attempting to break the kiss, laughing.

  I shake my head, refusing, my lips more frantic, more focused on making her see nothing matters but this. Fuck stopping. I don’t care if the goddamn building is on fire. I’ll have sex with her and then put the fire out.

  With a giggle, she parts her mouth from mine, gasping for air and tries to put her legs down.

  Why is she trying to stop me?

  I draw back. “Why?”

  That’s when she laughs, kissing me once more and points over my shoulder. “We’re not alone.”

  Just then someone clears their throat. I hadn’t realized but someone had gotten on the elevator with us. Out of the corner of my eyes, I notice my neighbor smiling at me. He’s a sixteen-year-old kid, Adam, who lives with his dad, and I fucking guarantee he’s never seen a naked woman before. Not that Mila is naked but it’s the way he’s eyeing her legs that makes me think he’s imagining she is. Little fucker.

  Adam’s face is flushed, eyes wide under his dark baseball cap, the epitome of an embarrassed teenage boy. It’s like three in the morning. What the fuck is he doing up? is my first thought. My next is I don’t care.

  Winking at him, I let Mila down and back two steps before I reach inside my jeans to adjust myself, not caring who sees.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.” Mila covers her mouth, laughing, a warmth present in her cheeks, fidgeting with her shirt and trying to smooth out the wrinkles.

  “What?” I chuckle, removing my hand. “He doesn’t mind.”

  Adam smiles, his own face flushing. “I’m just taking notes.”

  “Hey, dude,” I say, nudging Adam’s arm with mine. “What are you doing up this late?”

  He shrugs. “Out with friends.”

  Uh-huh, sure he is. I smile, but I don’t look at Adam again; I can’t with Mila next to me because the expression on her face makes it worth it. Not only are her cheeks red but her neck and chest are covered in pink splotches.

  Fuck yeah. I’m getting to her.

  When the elevator dings and the door opens, Adam jets out ahead of us.

  “This is my floor,” I tell Mila, grabbing her hand.

  Mila nods quickly, like she’s suddenly nervous. “Okay.”

  Chuckling, I tip my head when she doesn’t move and I let go of her hand. “After you.”

  Her eyes narrow. She knows what I’m doing. I want to watch her walk in front of me.

  It’s a little uncomfortable trying to walk, what with a raging hard-on I have going on, but once I have her at my door and she’s walking past it because let’s face it, she has no clue where I live.

  I grab her by the waist, yanking her back into my chest. “Where ya goin’, honey?”

  She sighs but doesn’t say anything in reply, melting against me.

  Digging my keys from my pocket, I don’t let go of Mila and open the door with my right hand. Twisting around just as I get them in the door, she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “You better get that damn door open soon,” she whispers and then drops her goddamn hand and palms the outside of my jeans. “Or I may have to drop to my knees right here.”

  Did she really just say that?

  Never mind her hand is exactly where I want it, did she just say she’d drop to her knees? I clearly underestimated her in being shy.

  While I’m tempted to call bullshit in hopes she might actually do it, regretfully I get the door open. And instead of making her drop to her knees, I kiss her because if I can’t have her lips on my dick, I want them on my mouth at least.

  Mila giggles, allowing me to carry her inside by wrapping her legs around my waist.

  “Are your roommates home?” she asks, breaking the kiss and looking around my apartment.

  My mouth moves to her neck when her head twists, refusing to break our contact again.

  With both my hands on her ass, I drop the keys on the floor somewhere and kick the door shut behind me.

  “Probably not,” I tell her, mouth on her collarbone. “But my room’s upstairs.”

  “Take me there. Now,” she pleads, lips on mine.

  Wrapping her legs tighter around me, I carry her to the stairs, knocking over the table beside the door and sending the pile of hats, my own off my head, spare change bowl and keys to the floor. It crashes around us, tiny pings and thuds, but I don’t stop to clean it up, my hands and actions nearing frantic, and she is right there with me.

  She’s kissing me everywhere she can, whether it be my lips, cheek, jaw, ears . . . anything, and practically clawing at me. It fuels the fire inside of me, and I slam her against the closet door next to the stairs, dragging the length of my erection against her again just to satisfy the ache if only f
or a second.

  My keys get kicked aside and we’re moving toward the stairs.

  Mila moans into my mouth but says nothing, only kisses me harder, her hands on my shoulders tightening into fists around my jacket like they did in the elevator. She’s tearing at the collar, desperate for more, her want undeniable.

  I don’t have the greatest grip on her, and the moment I begin to walk, my shoes slide against the tile entryway. I nearly drop her twice, but we land on the stairs with a laugh. She lies back on her forearms, shaking her head.

  Christ, I have to get her upstairs. Jacey will kill me if I fuck another girl on the stairs, or walks in and I’m in the middle of it. Both have happened. A few times.

  I take the moment to kick my shoes off and then I’m picking her up again, intent on getting her to my bed. No more messing around.

  We make it two steps, and Mila lets go of my neck and rips her shirt over her head letting it fall away. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Fuck, she has the most amazing tits. Better than Gemma’s for sure.

  Remember when I said Mila was way out of my fucking league and belongs on the cover of a Victoria’s Secret magazine? It’s pretty damn evident now. Between her creamy olive skin, dark hair and blue eyes, she’s like a Brazilian beauty I have no business having in my bed.

  I’m one lucky son of a bitch for sure.

  She says something, but I don’t hear it. My breathing, embarrassingly harsh, drowns out words.

  I twist slightly and lay her against the stairs. With one leg bent, I lean into her, my hands eagerly seeking out her beautiful perky fucking tits, squeezing, and then replacing my hands with my mouth. My tongue swirls over her hardened pink nipples, lapping at them like they’re my reason for living. At this point, they are. Only thing better would be my mouth on her pussy.

  I’ll get there eventually, I’m sure of it, but this is fucking heaven.

  Drawing each one into my mouth, I groan around them and bite down softly. I do that with her right breast, and then her left before my mouth moves over the valley between them, licking up her chest, a man dying of thirst. Grunting, my hands drop from her breasts to the stairs when my mouth finds hers again, hovering over her in a predatory way. It is predatory. I’m seconds away from attacking this poor woman.