Pistol

Chapter Twenty-Four

Steph squealed as Pete dug his hands under her ass, and rose from the couch with her in his arms. His eyes darkened, and her body sparked to life in response. She didn't even entertain the idea of showing indifference to his actions; instead she grinned like a lunatic as he carried her to the bedroom.

He kicked the door wide, and walked through with purpose before he tossed her onto the mattress. Steph sprung into the air on impact, and giggled like a pre-schooler in a bouncy castle. Her heart swelled as she watched his blatant determination, and her insides thrummed at the thought of what he might have planned. Would it be more rough-and-ready? Or something kinkier?

He stood at the side of the bed, hands on hips as he flicked his lip-ring back and forth. "So many things I could do to ya right now."

"Then do them," she challenged, and gave her best come-hither look.

"Nah," he shook his head. "It has to be right."

Steph waited as patiently as she could while arousal coursed through her body. "Anytime now would be nice," she teased.

"Fuck. Don't pressure me woman. I'm not used to thinkin' like this."

"Like what?" she asked, and drew to her elbows.

"Meaningful. Gentle."

"Oh." He wanted to be gentle, and he didn't know how. Steph snorted.

"Oh, fuck ya," he chastised. "Here I am, tryin' to be all gentleman-like, and show ya how fuckin' special ya are to me, and all ya do is laugh."

"Come on." She giggled. "It's hilarious watching your cute expression as you try to think."

"Ya want cute, huh?" he growled. "I'll give ya cute." He dived onto the bed, and held himself over her.

Steph drew her arms up to defend herself as she giggled. He ducked his head to her neck, and bit her. What the fuck? "You bit me!"

"Yeah," he remarked. A shit-eater grin ripped his face in two. "Ya wanted cute. Well puppies are cute, and they bite."

"Aww," Steph teased. "Coochie-coochie-coo." She tickled him under the jaw as she taunted him. The words acted as a red flag to the bull, but so what? The result was bound to be fun.

"Yer bloody askin' for it, woman."

"And you're taking an age to deliver."

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her pyjama pants, and tugged. "How, me Love, am I meant to do anythin' with this incredibly appealin' item of clothin' in me way?"

Steph scowled, and bucked him off to make room. He obliged, and she drew her pants to her ankles, then kicked them to the floor. "There."

"Better ..."

"But?"

"Yer top's still on."

Seriously? Steph shook her head, and then rose up to tug the fabric over her head. He assisted when her arm got caught given the awkward angle she was on, still being underneath him. "Better?" she asked as it also hit the floor.

"Much." His eyes fell heavy, and he made a show of looking her over. "Too fuckin' sexy to keep covered around me."

"You're stalling," she growled.

He quirked an eyebrow, and smirked. "Am I?"

Come on, surely he's going to get naked, too? Steph grabbed a handful of his shirt, and tugged. "Off."

He scooted back off the bed, and slipped the waistcoat over the shirt. Steph chewed her lip as she watched him strip, too absorbed in his playful reveal to pay any mind to her nudity. The white shirt fell apart as he freed the final button, and his colourful artwork lay in the open for her appreciation once more. So many pictures made up the various designs that she estimated it would take a week to find them all, but it was a week she'd gladly spend.