Applewild by Heather Lin Page B

smoke.”
    “What do you want?” His voice was cool, indifferent, and he knew it.
    She shifted her weight and looked away from him. “Where are you going?”
    “Out.”
    Her eyes met his again, piercing green over the thin, displeased line of her mouth. He might even go so far as to say she looked hurt. Good.
    “With Kyle?”
    The accurate guess took him off guard. “How did you know?”
    “We’re girls. We talk.”
    “Fair enough.”
    Monroe’s frown deepened. “You know she could be the one who took the picture.”
    “I doubt that.”
    “Why?”
    “She’s probably too stupid to use a camera.”
    Monroe’s eyes narrowed. “So not only are you going out to get laid tonight, you’re going out to get laid with a girl you don’t even respect?”
    “The one I respect doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
    The pointed comment struck home. Monroe turned away from him. Her hands moved to her hips, and she kicked at a weed.
    “Well, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Rodney. He went home with Barb and Delaney before we fell asleep. It was someone else there. But you go ahead and take your chances. I hope she has a webcam hidden somewhere.”
    Monroe thrust her toe hard at the dirt, severing the weed where it met the ground before walking abruptly back into the barn. Her words were harsh. Alton was confused. She’d told him to get lost. Why was she mad? He ran his hands over his face and held them there, muffling a frustrated groan.
    He wanted her. All signs said she wanted him, too. It was the simplest thing in the world. How had it become so complicated? He smacked the truck door hard with the palm of his hand and went after her. She wasn’t in the barn. The horses were in for the night. Only the low lights let him see where he was walking. But he heard movement above him and headed for the stairs. He took them quickly, heart racing, blood pumping, indecent thoughts making him hard before he even reached the door.
    He rapped loudly, and on the third knock, Monroe answered. He kissed her, giving her no time to speak, no chance to resist. He kicked the door closed and backed her up to the unmade bed without letting his mouth leave hers. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his caresses, moaning softly as she lost herself in his lips. The kiss was deep and ceaseless. Alton grasped her chin gently and teased the swollen flesh of her lips until she trembled all over. He refused to lose this moment again.
    He laid Monroe down and straddled her hips, tangling his fingers in her hair and tugging, coaxing her into exposing the smooth flesh of her throat. He licked and nipped the sensitive skin incessantly, feeding off the short gasps escaping her lungs, the way her nails raked his back through his shirt, the unconscious grind of her warm, jean-clad mound against his thigh. He brought a hand down to rub her through the fabric, to ease some of her suffering, reveling in the way she moved against him.
    He peeled off his shirt and undid the top button of hers, but she surprised him by grasping his wrists and flipping him onto his back before he could gain full access to her sultry body. She stripped off her pants and underwear, then traveled down the length of his body to tug off his shoes and socks.
    Soon, he was naked, and she remained in the button-down flannel shirt, which he had to admit was sexy in itself. She sat on top of him, pressing the warm, wet vee of her thighs against his throbbing erection, sliding methodically up and down its length, driving him wild without giving him exactly what he wanted.
    “Shit…Monroe…,” he moaned, grasping her bare hips in his hands and quickening the pace.
    He could feel the nub of her clit rocking against the head of his penis, and her closed eyes and parted lips told him she was deriving her own pleasure from the act. She reached up and felt her breasts through the shirt, one hand hidden by a fingerless leather glove, gently kneading the mounds