Free Caroselli's Baby Chase by Michelle Celmer Page A

know,” he said, red-hot lust in his eyes as he unfastened his pants. “Take off your jeans.”
    She unfastened them and shoved them down, and his dropped to the floor. His pants and his underwear.
    “This is just sex,” she told him, as he tugged her panties down her legs. “We’re not friends.”
    “Definitely not.” He knelt at the end of the mattress and began to kiss his way up her legs, pushing them apart as he worked his way higher, and when he reached the apex of her thighs, he kissed her there, then took her into his mouth.
    She had forgotten that he had such a talented tongue. But as good as it was, she wanted him inside her when she came, and he must have been thinking the same thing. He moved over her, settled between her open thighs, his weight pressing her into the mattress in the most appealing way.
    He took her hands in his and pinned them over her head. “Tell me you want me.”
    “This was your idea,” she said. “So clearly you’re the one who wants me .”
    He lowered his head to lick her nipple, then suck it into his mouth. Hard . She gasped and pushed up against his grip.
    “Tell me you want me,” he said, and the devilish look in his eyes said he would take whatever measures necessary to make her cooperate…like slide his erection against her, teasing her with the tip, until she was restless and needy.
    “Fine, I want you,” she said, shifting underneath him.
    His deadpan expression said that wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. But there was something else, an undercurrent of emotion that made her wonder if he actually needed to hear it.
    She looked into his eyes and said, “I want you.”
    With a swift and not-so-gentle thrust that stole her breath, he was inside of her. Then he pulled back and thrust again and pleasure rippled through her like a shock wave. A few more of those and it would be all over for her. She held her breath, anticipating the next thrust, but instead Rob stopped, cursing under his breath.
    “Something wrong?” she asked him.
    He looked down at her. “Are you using any kind of birth control?”
    She shook her head.
    “At present, neither am I, so before it’s too late…”
    She shoved him off her. “Yes, definitely. Please.”
    Thank goodness he’d noticed in time. She couldn’t even imagine what a disaster it would have been if he hadn’t. She was at the worst possible time in her cycle to be taking chances.
    If there was a world speed record for rolling on a condom, she was sure he broke it. But this time, as he lowered himself over her, he took things a bit slower. Fast, slow, she didn’t care, so long as he was touching her.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his eyes searching her face, as if he were trying to memorize her down to the tiniest detail. Hot friction burned at her core, mounting with every slow, steady thrust. She could feel the pleasure coiling tight, the pressure building. She was going to tell him that they needed to slow down, but it was already too late. Her body, her entire being was sucked under into a whirlpool of pleasure. Rob growled and tensed as he came.
    And as good as it felt, she was almost sorry that it was over, that it hadn’t lasted longer. Of course, if this was anything like that night in the hotel, they weren’t anywhere near finished.
    * * *
    Carrie woke the next morning and sat up in bed, disoriented by the unfamiliar room. Then she remembered that she was living in the condo now. In Chicago.
    And last night…
    She looked over at the empty spot beside her and sighed. The son of a bitch had sneaked out on her again. She looked around for a note, but once again, he hadn’t bothered to leave one.
    It figured.
    In a huff, she tugged on her robe and trudged sleepily to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. There was a handwritten note stuck to the refrigerator door with a magnet:
     
     
Sorry, had to work. I had a great time last night. Left at 7, no skulking involved. Wanna not be friends again