Aria snorted. “That’s for damn sure.”
“Hey, it was your brilliant idea that I start getting physical—”
“Like a normal person, Raz! Not like some freaky nympho who can’t keep his paws to himself.”
“I didn’t mean… It just happened.”
He couldn’t help his wince. He had waded into deep waters armed only with a slew of pathetic excuses. Trying to determine what had happened tonight—why he’d lost control of himself at all, let alone so thoroughly—was beyond his understanding. And with Ginny’s warm body pressed against him, her hot cunt still wrapped around his semihard prick, he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again the second she awoke.
He’d never wanted a woman like this, which made her dangerous. He didn’t even know her last name.
“It,” Aria repeated slowly, “just happened?”
“Yes. I saw her and… I don’t know what’s happening, but it happened. For her too.” Razor tightened his arms around Ginny. “For both of us.”
By the look on Aria’s face, she remained unimpressed or unconvinced—either way meant Razor was staring down a serious ass-chewing. However, a small melodic moan teased the air before the blonde witch could choke out another word.
Ginny was waking up.
His body’s response was instantaneous, and the beast in his chest began to purr, his cock swelling inside her against his mind’s protests. He couldn’t do this again—not right now, and certainly not with Aria standing voyeur. Shame and desire ballooned within his chest and warred equal parts for recognition. Ginny whimpered and shifted slightly, her pussy tightening around him. She blinked slowly and lifted her head, and the second their eyes connected that strange possessive snarl he’d come to identify with her dulled his hearing.
“Hi,” she said softly.
He warmed, his body threatening to melt in her arms. “Hi.”
A small smile flirted with her bewitching mouth. Then her gaze shifted over his shoulder. “There’s a girl in here.”
“That’s Aria,” Razor murmured.
“I’m Aria.”
“Aria.” Ginny nodded. “I remember. From last night.”
“That’s me.”
Razor grinned. “She’s looking for me.”
Ginny nodded again, then slowly drew her eyes back to his. Her pussy tightened around him again, though from the look on her face he knew that one was intentional. She grasped his forearms and squeezed. “Mmm. Did she find you?”
“Ugh. I’m outta here.” Something clanked behind him. “I’ll tell Silver we’re gonna need her to act as DJ for the rest of the night.”
“No,” Razor said, doing his best to ignore his body’s responses, his aching erection and each instinct that screamed at him to throw Ginny on her back and fuck her until they both passed out. “Gimme fifteen. I’ll be back out.”
Aria snorted. “Whatever. And I’m closing the door.” She was gone the next second, the sound of a door locking punctuating her statement.
Razor stared at Ginny, who stared right back. He couldn’t get a read on her, though from the blush on her cheeks she was entertaining a rush of embarrassment, but the desire in her eyes battled for dominance.
“I’m sorry for passing out,” she whispered. “And for…ruining your night.”
He chuckled and stole a kiss off her lips, in spite of his misgivings. Her hips had started rolling, her pussy dragging along his skin before welcoming him into her warm wetness again. How in the world his body could remain so prime and ready seemed beyond him, though he’d once heard a heightened sex drive was part of a werewolf’s unifying with his inner animal.
He placed his hands on her hips to stop her, but fuck, he couldn’t help himself.
“We need,” Razor said, panting softly, “to talk.”
“Mhmm.” The smile on Ginny’s face brightened, her head falling back. “Talking good. Not as good as this.”
“Fuck no.”
She placed a hand on his chest and coaxed him back until his shoulder blades hit the floor. Razor hummed his approval, slipping his fingers under her blouse. He wanted her naked—completely. Wanted to drink her in with his eyes, explore her curves with his hands, feel her breasts in his palms and her nipples between his lips. He wanted everything in that moment, but he stood by what he said. They did need to talk.
“Hard to concentrate,” Razor growled, “with you moving like that.”
“You complaining?” she asked.
Complain? He almost laughed. What sane man would complain while being ridden to oblivion? Especially after going so long without a woman. “No,” he said, his fingers sliding farther up her blouse until he had the swell of her breast cradled against him. “Fuck no.”
“I just want this to last.”
Razor didn’t know to what she referred, and at the moment he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything so long as she moved like that. His prick was her body’s prisoner and if she never released him, he’d die a happy man.
“I’ll make it last,” he promised.
Ginny sighed and swirled her hips, her pussy swallowing his cock with hard need as she steered him home again and again. Fuck, she was glorious. Gone was the shy wallflower he’d met just hours ago, or the overtly self-aware fan whose hot gaze burned his face every night he took the stage. Somewhere within her shell resided a wanton creature whose sexuality had been repressed far too long. Her soft brown hair fell in ringlets over her shoulders, her swollen lips parted as heady little gasps tore into the air.
She moved over him in long, desperate strokes, gaining momentum with every downward plunge. She rode him as though she’d been born to ride and had only now found the right partner.
“You look so good,” Razor whispered, running his thumb over her bra-clad nipple. His other hand dipped to her pussy. “I love watching you fuck me.”
“This isn’t me,” Ginny whispered, a delicious roll of sweat dribbling into her eye. It was the same thing she’d said this morning—or something similar—though it sounded less like a protest now and more like a warning. As though she was afraid he was attracted to someone who didn’t exist.
“Ginny…”
“It isn’t me.” She whimpered when his thumb settled over her clit, her thrusts coming harder now, her pussy squeezing him with every plunge. His juice-slathered cock hardened each time she took him inside and his balls constricted with the need for release.
What was she doing to him?
“It isn’t me,” she said again. “But I want it to be.”
Razor lifted himself up and seized her lips, swallowing her moan as she came apart around him. He bucked, screwed his eyes shut and spilled himself inside her with a hard roar. And as before, his blood pulsated against his skull and his bones quaked as the wolf strained for freedom. Yet he was prepared this time. He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, his arms shaking and the rest of his body threatening to shatter into a thousand pieces.
He didn’t know how he was going to keep his wits about him if this didn’t end. And he didn’t want it to.
He didn’t want her to go anywhere.
After a few moments, Ginny raised her head and blinked sleepily. “Hi,” she said.
“You didn’t pass out this time.”
“I really wanted to.” She giggled, a goofy smile spreading across her face. “I need to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because I might fuck you again if I don’t.”
“Not the worst problem to have,” Razor replied and kissed her. Yet he knew he couldn’t afford to lose himself again—if not for the wolf screaming for freedom each time he lost himself in her, then definitely for the fact Aria would come in here and blast his unholy ass to kingdom come if he didn’t make good on his promise to finish up the night’s gig.
Ginny nodded and lifted herself off his lap, wincing when he slipped out of her. She staggered to the sofa and plucked her slacks off the floor. “I really didn’t mean for this to ha
ppen,” she said. “Especially not twice.”
Razor nodded and watched her. The liberated sex goddess of just seconds ago had disappeared, crawled back inside the skin of the wallflower. The transformation was jarring. She didn’t need to keep reminding him her behavior wasn’t a reflection of herself—it was all over her face.
Whatever was happening to him had happened to her as well.
“It’s okay,” he said. The words sounded weak even to him.
“No,” Ginny replied sharply. “It’s not. I came here because…God, I don’t know. And now I’ve had sex. Twice—no, three times. I came here to—what, and I ended up here. Having sex. Again. Unprotected sex, mind you, with a man I don’t know.”
“I’m Razor.”
She gave him the stink eye. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, he did. But that didn’t change anything. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s been so long for me, I didn’t even think about…protection. If something happens—”
She snorted, her eyebrows shooting skyward. “Yeah.”
He frowned. Her self-depreciating tone had taken an unpleasant edge. “What?” he asked.
“This sort of thing is new for you? Fucking groupies?”
“You’re not a groupie.”
Ginny snorted again and started wiggling on her pants. “I might as well be.”
“And all of this is new for me. You’re the first woman I’ve been with in years.”
Since Natalie tried to kill me and wound up dead instead.
Somehow he didn’t think those words would inspire much comfort. Still, he didn’t like the guarded look that had seized Ginny’s expression, and though he could understand her skepticism, he wasn’t wild about the picture she had apparently drawn of him in her head. There was no reason for her to think otherwise, of course; they were strangers, and strangers didn’t need reason beyond impression to form unflattering opinions about someone. Yet for as much as they might not know each other, they’d shared something explosive, and if the heat simmering between them was any indication, the ride was far from over.
Razor accepted most people probably thought the same. He was the band leader, after all. The lead singer for a popular local group who did indeed spend his nights getting propositioned every which way from the women who frequented the club, but that didn’t mean he liked it. Until now, until today, he had avoided the opposite sex like the fucking plague, terrified of what might happen if he let down his guard. If his wolf got a whiff of something sweet.
“Look,” Ginny said shortly. She was on her feet now, one of her black dress sandals in hand, her gaze scouring the office, likely in search of the other. “You don’t need to do that for my benefit.”
He looked at her for a long moment before realizing he still sat on the floor with his penis hanging out of his pants. Odds were the fifteen minutes he had promised Aria had already elapsed, but he couldn’t leave here just yet. “Do what?” he asked as he climbed to his feet. He tucked his semi-flaccid member back behind his fly and zipped up.
“Pretend like I’m any different.”
“From what, Ginny?”
“The other girls.”
Razor hissed out a patient breath. “For you to be the same as other girls, there would have to be other girls. There aren’t. This is new for me.”
He watched her pause, her teeth scraping her lower lip in a manner that made him want to growl and shove her against the nearest flat surface. Razor released a steady breath, his fingers curling and uncurling. She didn’t have to believe him. His behavior today had been positively barbaric. From the second their lips had touched he had been possessed by some primal need to take ownership of her. Feigning control of his libido while simultaneously standing as a living testament to how much control he didn’t have made him the poster child for hypocrisy.
Reminding her she wasn’t exactly innocent in this wouldn’t do much to score him points either. Razor didn’t have to know her intimately to know Ginny was a very private person. To her, his on-stage personality was no different from the man who had fucked her silly. She couldn’t appreciate the difference.
At last, Ginny sighed and shook her head. “Maybe,” she said, though her tone clearly indicated her doubt. “And I haven’t exactly been Little Miss Responsible. I came here to talk to you and I kinda threw myself at you.”
“In your defense, I am pretty irresistible.”
She snickered and looked away. “And modest.”
“The most modest.” Razor grinned in spite of himself, then forced it aside. “You’re not alone, you know. I have no idea what came over me either. The second you walked in, my mind checked out and I just…”
He stopped. He’d said this before, or tried. It didn’t sound any better now.
Ginny inhaled deeply. “We should talk about this, shouldn’t we?”
“I thought we were talking.”
“I mean… Don’t you have to go back on stage?”
Yes, and Aria was probably going postal with his continued absence. The only thing that saved his furry hide from getting another lecture was likely her aversion to seeing him balls-deep in a stranger.
Even if the meddlesome blonde had placed the stranger in his path.
“I do,” Razor agreed. “Will you stay?”
“Stay?”
“So we can talk.”
Ginny looked away again and rubbed her arms. “I shouldn’t.”
He nodded, hoping his face didn’t betray his disappointment. While yes, he understood getting the girl he couldn’t keep his paws off as far away from him as possible was a good thing, he didn’t want her running scared. No, Razor had spent too many years keeping his head down, too fucking afraid of his own shadow to try to get a taste of life. If his time with Ginny had taught him anything, it was life as he knew it was rather pathetic. Obviously he needed companionship beyond a surrogate sister and his right hand. His wolf could barely keep its shit together in Ginny’s presence.
Terrifying, yes. But he couldn’t help it. The voice commanding him to turn tail and flee was for once overpowered by a mad rush of curiosity-fueled courage. Even if he lost control—completely wolfed out—it would be better to face his fears than spend his life running from them. Natalie’s death had been under circumstances he couldn’t predict—not once during their very active sex life had his inner animal clawed for freedom. The fact it was now had to mean something, didn’t it?
Ginny had to mean something.
“You shouldn’t,” he echoed, his shoulders slumping. “Okay.”
She seemed determined to look anywhere but at him. “But you can have my address.”
That he hadn’t expected. Razor blinked. “What?”
“Or my phone number.”
He took an eager step forward, half afraid he’d trip over his anxious feet and half uncaring if he did. “No, I’d like your address. Will you still be awake at…well, whenever I get out of here?”
Ginny emitted a high-pitched nervous twitter and ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I don’t think I’ll sleep for a month. But—ahh—are you sure you want to? Come over, I mean?”
Razor closed another space between them. She was near enough he could feel her warmth radiating off her skin, smell the sweet essence of sweat and sex rolling off her in waves. Something jerked in his chest and his cock hardened.
She needs to get out of here. Now.
If she didn’t, Aria might as well close down Electric Panther. He’d be a fucking goner.
“I want to,” he said, reaching up in spite of his better judgment to tuck a strand of silky-soft hair behind her ear. Her nostrils flared and her eyes darkened, clashing with his at last. He knew she felt it too. The drive. The urge.
Shove her against the wall.
“No,” he said, then winced. “I mean, yes, I want to, but you need to leave right now.”
Ginny nodded shakily. “Okay.”
“I mean it. If you don’t leave, I’m gonna lose control aga
in.” Razor offered a lopsided grin. “Besides, I’d rather get you in a bed next time.”
She hummed her approval, her gaze dropping to his mouth. Then she blinked, snapped her head back and gave herself a good shake. “Nine five seven East Monroe Terrace,” she said, making a break for the door. “Apartment C.”
Razor nodded, turning to face her as she strolled past. “Nine five seven, apartment C. You’ll be awake?”
“I’ll be awake.”
“If you don’t answer, I’m likely to huff and puff.”
Ginny paused at the threshold and turned to favor him with an amused grin. It was maybe the first he’d seen on her face—he didn’t remember at that moment—but with how it brightened her up he wanted to ensure it wouldn’t be the last.
“My building isn’t made of straw,” she teased.
“I’ll just have to blow harder.”
Ginny held his gaze for a long moment before she aimed a meaningful look at his crotch. “And here I thought you’d leave something for me to do.”
It was a good thing she disappeared into the hallway after that remark—one more second breathing in her arousal, with those promising words between them, and he’d have had her on the sofa again.
As it was, he needed a cold shower. Or a bucket of freezing water to the face.
Lacking either, he’d just have to stop at the cooler before going back on stage. Hopefully he could find a handful of ice to shove down his pants.
Chapter Six
To her credit, Aria didn’t make too much of a fuss about what she’d walked in on. Not that Razor expected her silence to last—there was one thing Aria McClain couldn’t resist, and it was a well-rehearsed told you so dance. Yet he made it through the entire set without her wagging her brows at him or rolling her eyes or making obscene hand puppets.
Insatiable Craving: 2 (Insatiable Nights) Page 7
