Strike (Completion Series) by Holly S. Roberts Page B

he could make this look so sexy was beyond me, but the man had the corner on erotic striptease—soggy clothes and all.
    I ’d been watching his dance so closely I hadn’t noticed him just poking out of the top of his low-riding jeans until his hand undid the top button before pulling the zipper down.
    Oh shit.
    He was so big, too big. There was no way that would fit and it must have shown on my face because after he stepped from his pants, he lifted my chin.
    “We were made for each other. I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”
    I knew he would try , but I started to panic, unable to help myself.
    “I’ll go down on you , Reed. It’s okay, I’ll give you what you gave me.”
    He started laughing as he pulled me close , running his fingers through my wet hair. “Have you had sex before, baby?”
    I nodded against his chest. “Once.” I spoke so quietly I didn’t know if he heard me.
    “Was it good?”
    Oh , God, how could he ask? It was the most humiliating experience of my life. The guy was a complete jerk.
    He moved my hair out of my eyes and palmed my cheeks, moving me back from his chest until we looked at each other.
    “Tell me.” His voice was as low as mine, but there was steel behind it. The serious look in his eyes gave me courage.
    “It was in the backseat of his car—quick, ugly, and demeaning.” I tried to glance away, but he wouldn’t let me.
    “We didn’t even undress all the way. He got mad because I told him he had to use a condom. He told me before we started that he had one. It ended up being an old ratty thing in his wallet that he didn’t think he would really need. The experience was awful and I was mad at myself that I gave it up to him.”
    So much sympathy showed on Reed’s face. “I promise this will be good. I’ll make it good.”
    I couldn’t even smile ; I needed him so badly. “Then hurry before I chicken out.”
    “No , baby, there’s no way I’m hurrying this,” he said as he pulled his jeans and underwear completely off.
    He laughed at my groan while picking up a bottle of shampoo and washing my hair, massaging my scalp and drawing another moan from my lips. After applying conditioner and rinsing it out, he began washing my body—slowly. Stubbornly—slow. Every blessed inch of me, including the bottoms of my feet.
    I was shaking by the time he finished, needing so much from him. He wrapped me in a towel , dried himself then my hair. He took a comb and slowly worked out the tangles. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to cry, but tears welled behind my eyes and I had to fight them back with everything I had. I didn’t deserve him, and nothing in my life turned out good. This couldn’t possibly be any different, but I wanted him so badly. Too badly.
    “Trust me , Jaycee.” The whisper had me looking up into the most gorgeous face on earth, and all I could do was nod.
    He led me into his bedroom, the side lamps casting a soft glow over the beautiful comforter. He pulled it back, sat down on the edge, and shifted me so I was between his legs. Leaning over, he opened the drawer to his nightstand and removed a condom then laid it on the pillow. After discarding my towel and throwing it off somewhere, he kissed my belly, cupping my breasts.
    “I owe you an apology.” He spaced the kisses about an inch apart as he spoke. “It’s just hard to apologize when I wouldn’t take what happened back for all the money in the world.” More kisses. “I should never have tied you to that chair or cut away your clothes. I wasn’t thinking straight that night, but it’s no excuse.” Now the kisses moved up to my breasts. “I’ve thought about these every night since then. I can’t get your breasts out of my mind. I think about you tied to that chair and I’m hard as a rock.” He stopped and peered up at me. “What I did was wrong, but I just can’t be sorry, baby.”
    “Don’t be sorry .” And I meant it.
    He buried his head against my abs , groaning deeply. “If