Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) (18 page)

Laughing heartily, he leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. I pretend to not be grossed out as our perspiration mixes, and instead, I focus on how sweet he’s being to open up to me.

“Any more questions before we go inside? Even though you’ve asked like the last ten?” He tickles my ribcage.

“Hmmm.” I think for a minute. “Will you have a threesome with me before I go home?”

Without even considering it, he growls, “Absolutely not.”

Caught a little off guard by his response, I pull back to lock my gaze on his. “Why not?” I demand.

“Already told you, Sunshine.” He crushes his lips to mine, his tongue urgently pushing into my mouth as he devours and consumes me. A few seconds later, when we come up for air, he mumbles, “
Mine
.”

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 27

SWIPING THE HOTEL KEY CARD
across the magnetic reader, the green dot on the lock lights up, and I swing open the door to get my first look at home for the next five days. The suite at the trendy W Hotel in the French Quarter appears to be pretty fucking nice . . . that is, what I can see of it.

The couch in the corner is covered in a shitload of shopping bags, assorted colors and sizes, from what looks like every store in a fifty-mile radius. The small dining table is hidden by a leftover room service tray and an empty bottle of wine; the unused glasses were apparently not necessary. And strewn across the rumpled bed covers are Dakota’s purse, duffel bag, and phone, as well as several magazines. It appears that my little Sunshine has made herself quite comfortable while I was out at the track, which makes me unexpectedly happy. I like seeing all her shit everywhere. I like that she is who she is with me. Unapologetically.

I continue to move forward into the suite before I let that thought scare the shit out of me.

As I enter the bedroom portion of the suite, the first thing I hear is the hum of running water in the bathroom, and my first thought is,
Hell yeah, let’s conserve water!
But before I can barrel in there and rip my clothes off, Dakota begins the worst rendition of Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” I’ve ever heard in my life.

Choking back my laughter, I stand outside the door for several minutes and listen to her butcher one of the best driving songs ever. It’s bad. So terribly bad. Part of me is tempted to record it. You never know when good material like that can be handy, but I can’t pull myself away.

With tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks, I hold my gut and lean on the doorframe for balance, eavesdropping for the entire performance, beginning to end. Finally, after she belts out the final terribly-off-key lyric, I’m able to calm down a little. Though, I’m now well aware she’ll be the first thing I think of anytime I hear that song.

The list is growing. The color yellow. Anything Incredible Hulk. Massages. Body shots. Nipple rings. Ghost-hunting. Hot air balloons. Dragons. The roofs of buses. And now “Free Fallin’”. She’s ruining me a little more each day.

Fucking hell.
I’m starting to sound like Gunner’s pussy-whipped ass.

The water abruptly turns off and I jump backward at least a foot, thankful she didn’t see my guilty-as-fuck reaction. Quickly scooting away from the door, I fling open my suitcase and pretend to be unpacking my stuff as she emerges from the steamy bathroom.

“Oh hey, Hulk. I didn’t hear you come in.” Her mouth curls up in an impish grin when she sees me, probably assuming I’ve been out here thinking about her naked in the shower. “Why didn’t you come in and join me?”

I give her my best innocent boy look, deciding to wait a while before I burst her bubble about what I heard. “I just assumed it was locked. Sorry. So used to being on the bus.”

“And since when have you cared about locks on the bus?” she quips. “You usually take what you want, when you want it. Isn’t that what you told me once?”

Standing next to the king-size bed, she loosens her grip on the white towel draped around her sexy-as-sin body, and as the terrycloth falls to the floor, it whooshes away any thoughts with it that don’t involve me buried to the hilt inside her. Maybe I’ll add white towels to the list too.

My brazen gaze roams the length of her body, absorbing every delicious fucking inch of what she’s offering. She is fucking exquisite. Water droplets glisten on her smooth, freshly washed skin, begging me to lick them off, calling out to me like I’m a man dying from dehydration.
God, I’m fucked.

Using every last ounce of self-control I have, I stalk toward her slowly as I run through the gamut of things I want to do to her right now. There are so fucking many. Her eyes burn as bright as the blue tip of a flame when I approach. Always ready to play.

“Do you know what happens to pretty little girls who can’t control their smart mouths?” I ask, edging as close to her as I can without actually making contact. My voice is low and thick, almost unrecognizable to my own ears.

“No.” Her gaze drifts down to where my boner is tenting the mesh athletic shorts, and she licks her lips. “But I hope it has something to do with Thor down there teaching me a lesson.”

“Thor?” I grumble, unsure where she’s going with this.

Lifting her chin, her fiery eyes return to mine as she reaches out to palm my erection. “Yeah, you’re Hulk, and this,” her fingers circle around my shaft and she squeezes lightly, “is
Thor
.”

I suck in a deep breath when she grabs ahold of me, my dick pulsating to the beat of a bad techno song. “Why not Iron Man or Captain America?” I manage to croak out.

With a soft laugh, Dakota drops to her knees in front of me, making quick work of my shorts and boxers. My cock springs free from its confines with one destination in mind—her hot, wet mouth. Wrapping her fingers around the base, she peers up at me and smirks. “Because I’d rather fuck and suck Chris Hemsworth than those other two guys any day of the week.”

At the mere mention of her being with another guy, famous or not, I see red. Pure, unadulterated, jealous anger flashes through me. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Complete caveman overload.

Before I can protest or ask anymore questions, she swipes her velvety tongue across the purple head. Once. Then a second time. “Calm down, James,” she murmurs. “I was just teasing. We can name your cock later. Right now, I want you to try to fuck the sass out of my mouth.”

“Sunshine, how much longer? It’s a party, not prom, woman!” I call out from the couch, where I’m half-watching the NBA finals while I wait for Dakota to get ready.

She’s been in the bathroom for at least a half-hour, doing God knows what. I can tell she’s nervous about tonight for some reason, even though she won’t admit it. I bet Emmy Sue told her about some of the people who’ll be there, but she has no reason to worry. She’s beautiful all the time.

“One more minute! I need to grab my shoes and I’m ready,” she yells back a few seconds before appearing in the doorway.

My mind goes blank when I see her, the breath stolen from my lungs. She’s beyond perfect; no words can measure up. In seconds, I’m beyond hard again at the mere sight of her standing before me.
Motherfuckin’ mine.

There’s no way she’s got panties on with that black skirt that hugs her curves seamlessly. It’s not indecently short, but I’ll be making sure she doesn’t bend over at any point unless I’m directly behind her. And I’ve never seen her hair curly like that. I want to tangle my fingers in it. Pull it . . . hard. I love her bare shoulders. My mouth waters just thinking about sinking my teeth into that delicate skin. Oh, if I look close enough, I can see the faint outline of her piercings under that yellow top. Did I mention how goddamn turned on I am?

“Well? How do I look?” She spins around slowly to give me a view from the backside, which is just as fucking phenomenal. I can’t wait to push that skirt up around her waist and show her how
Thor
likes to use his hammer. “Good enough to be your girl for the night?”

Pushing up to my feet, I cross the room in two long strides, cupping her face in both hands when I reach her. The base of her throat bobs as she swallows hard, flecks of silver shimmering in her crystal-blue eyes.

“You’re too good to be my girl any night, Sunshine,” I rasp.

Her lips part slightly as her breath catches at my words. Whether she believes them or not, it’s the goddamn truth. The warmth of her exhale against my mouth spurs me forward, and as I firmly press my lips to hers, sliding my tongue into her welcoming mouth, gently stroking her tongue, something happens inside me. Something so powerful I can feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Something so intense, I’m forced to break free from her before I teeter over the edge into some place completely unknown to me.

A place I’m not sure I’m ready to go.

“Now that was a kiss, Hulk,” she purrs, lifting up on her tiptoes to press her lips to my cheek. Then, spinning around, she pads over to the closet and chooses some tall sandal-looking things, quickly slipping her feet inside them. “Let’s do this.”

Thankfully, tonight’s shindig is at the hotel we’re staying at, so our trip to the festivities is only an elevator ride away. Gunner and Emmy Sue are already having a drink at the hotel bar—always our designated meeting spot—waiting for me and Dakota so that we can all go in together. I know I’ll most likely be pulled in a hundred different directions the second we’re inside, and I don’t want Dakota left alone. I don’t trust ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the people in this industry.

“Dude, what up? You’re never late.” Gunner glances down at his watch as we saunter up, giving me our typical bro hug before shifting his attention to Dakota. “Oh, Sunshine, don’t you look even more gorgeous than usual.”

Ever since I said something about him not calling her by my nickname, he uses it every opportunity he gets. Like the cocksucker he is. Scooping her up in a hug so big he lifts her off the floor, he purposely glances over at me to see my reaction. Make that a
fucking
cocksucker.

She squeaks when he sets her down, straightening her shirt and skirt with a laugh. “Thanks, but I think I’m the reason he’s late. This makeup and hair stuff takes forever.”

Emmy Sue, also more fixed up than usual, pushes her husband out of the way and kisses Dakota’s cheek. “You do look amazing, sweets. But, then again, you always do. Now let’s go get our party on. I need food!”

Several of the major sponsors rented out one of the hotel restaurants for the night as a welcome party for all the athletes and their families arriving in town, to celebrate the start of the X-Games tomorrow. I don’t compete until Saturday night, but Gunner has qualifiers tomorrow afternoon, and then semifinals and finals Friday evening. Either way, most everyone is already here, having come into town either yesterday or today.

The inside of the expansive room has been cleared out, for the most part, the open space in the center filled with mingling bodies, while all tables and chairs have been scooted up against the walls. A live band playing popular covers is set up in the corner, and the wall-length bar on one side of the restaurant has no less than twenty people waiting for a drink.

Looks like a typical corporate event, where everyone plasters on a fake smile and behaves themselves. I’m giving it two hours. Tops. Then, I’m taking Dakota upstairs to have my dirty way with her.