With a satisfied smirk, he grabbed the pillow behind his head and flipped to the other end of the bed, rolling her on top of him. She made the cutest little whine in the back of her throat and his lips twitched up. "You okay there, Shorty?" he asked lazily, a knowing grin on his face. He was glad he hadn't talked himself out of coming over to see her again. When he'd walked into the kitchen after the game and found her panties on the floor, his brain instantly flooded with images of the night before, his blood sparking to life. After going round and round in his mind thinking it was too soon to see her again (and maybe a total pussy move on his part), he decided that he was Big and therefore a badass—a badass that had sufficiently rocked Alisha Larrington's world (okay, and maybe she'd rocked his, too) and he could make his own fucking rules. Besides, who was he to deny her (and himself) another night of insanely great sex? Seeing the slow, sexy smile on her face and her long legs peeking out of that excuse for a robe when she answered the door told him he'd made the right decision.
Alisha raised her head and looked down at him through dark, hooded eyes, a fully satiated smile curving languidly on her lips. "Mmm," she hummed. "Better than okay." She placed her hands on either side of his head against the mattress and nipped at his lower lip, pulling back teasingly. "Though I have to say I was surprised to see you at my door tonight," she told him honestly.
"You didn't seem to mind—you started tearing my clothes off the moment I got here," he smirked again, his hands smoothing leisurely down her back until they settled firmly on her ass.
"Do I need to remind you of the cheesy breadcrumb line you opened with?"
"It worked, didn't it?" he asked, an eyebrow arched high.
"I suppose it did," she admitted. She dropped kisses lightly over his jaw. "What'd you do today, or I guess it was yesterday?" His fingers curved into her flesh when she continued her trail of kisses down his neck.
"Uh…" God, her lips "…went and watched the Giants game at a bar with James and Maggie."
Alisha stopped the kissing and went stiff as a board, panic setting in. "Maggie?" she choked out, her face growing red. Oh, God.Please, no.
"Yeah, she was busting my balls about you and I told her to shove it."
"Oh, my God, did you tell her?" she asked frantically. Alisha pushed to a seated position and furiously brushed the hair out of her face, glaring down accusingly at Big.
He wanted to laugh. She seemed to be about four seconds away from a complete and utter freak out. "Tell her what?" he asked dumbly.
"Big!" she cried.
"Oh, that we fucked? Oops! Was I not supposed to?" He couldn't contain the shit-eating grin that broke out on his face. "Does this mean I should cancel the billboard in Times Square that reads I nailed Alisha Larrington from Chicago and she liked it?"
Alisha glowered down at him, realization that he was joking dawning on her slowly. She huffed out a relieved breath and then slapped him on the chest. Hard. He laughed. "You're an ass! God, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
Big laughed some more and snaked his arms around her waist when she tried to move off of him. "I wish you could see your face right now." She pouted and he sat up quickly and pressed his torso flush against hers, drawing her in for a kiss and lingering until he felt her relax into it. Pulling away, he leaned back on his hands and leered up at her. "You're not ashamed that you had sex with me are you, Larrington?" he asked teasingly, his voice low and sexy.
Alisha pursed her lips and considered his words before smiling impishly. "I should be ashamed of a couple of the positions I let you put me in, but no, I don't regret having sex with you."
He smirked proudly at those words. "Wanna not regret having sex with me again?" he asked devilishly, running his hands along the backs of her thighs.
She groaned, even as her skin prickled beneath his hands, extremely tempted, but she was exhausted. "Don't you have to work in the morning?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
He angled his head to read the alarm clock. 2:27. "Fuck—yeah, in four and half hours," he grumbled. "Rain check?" he rasped, bowing his head to draw one pert nipple into his mouth. At her sharp intake of breath, he smirked against her breast.
"Big," she warned, even as her head fell back and she arched against him, her fingers curling into his biceps. His mouth was fantastic.
"What?" he asked mischievously before flicking his tongue over her other nipple.
This sexy fireman was going to be the death of her. She just knew it. "I thought you were leaving?" she murmured, even as she held tighter to him.
"Hmm," he hummed against her skin, felt her shiver and released her from his mouth, angling his head up to look in her eyes, eyes that were warm and molten as they peered back at him. "Your perfect tits distracted me," he told her matter-of-factly, a lopsided grin breaking out over his face.
"You're incorrigible," she laughed dryly, shaking her head.
"Is that good or bad?" he asked, feigning seriousness and making her laugh a little harder.
"You really should go."
"Yeah, probably." Cupping the back of her head, he covered her mouth with his, sweeping his tongue easily inside. Her arms slithered around his neck and he deftly flipped her onto her back, not breaking the kiss that she eagerly returned. She moaned softly, hitching a leg high up on his hip and he suddenly pulled back, smirking at her stunned expression. "Gotta go, Larrington," he said rakishly, climbing off her
