Strictly Not Yours (The Salinger Brothers Book 4) by Carrie Elks

Author:Carrie Elks [Elks, Carrie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

BLAIR

I knock on his door just after eleven, clutching my backpack to my chest like I’m hugging a baby. Or maybe like it’s a shield.

Hopefully not both.

He knows I’m coming up – the concierge had to call him from the desk in the lobby. Luckily, it’s the night concierge because I don’t recognize him and he didn’t recognize me either.

So when he opens the door right away I’m not surprised. What does surprise me – in a nice way – is how good he looks. He’s showered and his hair is still wet, brushed away from his face. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Not too baggy, but hanging low on his hips. On his top is a black t-shirt that does nothing to hide the sculpted lines of his chest.

Without saying a word he pulls me inside and shuts the door in one easy movement. Before I can say hello my back is against the wall and he’s cupping my face, his mouth smashing against mine in the most deliciously violent kiss.

I’m not going to lie. I usually like people who follow the rules of decorum. But this is hot. His tongue slides against mine and his hand feathers down my side to cup my hip. His body is pressed against mine in a way that leaves me in no doubt about what he wants.

And as he plunders my mouth I feel the slickness between my thighs. I kiss him back, my arms wrapped around his neck, and he groans into my mouth. My forearms rest against his shoulders, and I feel the muscles tighten as he slides his hands over the swell of my behind. He hitches me up against the wall until my legs are wrapped around his hips and he’s pressed against me.

Between my thighs. Thick and hard.

His mouth releases mine and we both take hot, heavy breaths. He’s still holding me up, still gazing into my eyes.

I feel like a feather in his arms and I’m nothing approaching that. Seriously. This man has strength.

“Hi,” I breathe.

His lips curl. “Hi.”

“So how was your day, darling?” I ask.

His smile broadens. “Fucked up. Yours?”

“I submitted my project draft. So it was pretty good.”

His eyes soften, even though there’s still that darkness behind them. He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Well done.”

It’s funny but I like those words as much as I like his body.

“Thank you, sir,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens.

“You want to celebrate?” he asks.

“Definitely.” I smile at him.

“Champagne?”

I shake my head. “You.”

His eyes crinkle as he slowly nods. Still holding me, he turns and walks toward his bedroom. And it’s not like in the movies. I’m scared because – hello – I’m not exactly light here. And if he drops me it’s going to hurt. “Put me down,” I whisper.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, you’re going to get a hernia.”

He stops dead and looks at me. There’s not a sign of strain on his face. “Are you questioning my masculinity?” he asks, sounding amused.

“I’m questioning the ratio between the size of your muscles and the size of my ass.

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