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Forgetting Jack Cooper: The Stuntman Edition by Erin McCarthy (6)

Chapter Six

This hadn’t been in any of Chance’s plans. He had intended to be the guy who kissed her goodnight and then goes home and spends half the night awake with blue balls. But Toni had given him the nod to hang out for a while, and he was telling the truth—he had been fantasizing about getting her in his arms all night while they had been talking.

She was so tiny, her head barely coming up to his chin. Holding her made him feel like he needed to protect her. Make her his.

As they kissed, he forgot all about his earlier intentions to leave. He was staying until she kicked him out because for whatever reason they had fallen for the oldest maxim of relationships—opposites attract. Their mouths moved together with ease, like they had been making out for years and Chance hauled Toni closer, letting her body collide with his so she could feel what she did to him.

The music was heavy on the bass, a thumping beat that reminded him of the rhythm of sex and Chance broke off the kiss, needing to get a hold of himself. “You drive me crazy,” he said.

“I hear that a lot,” she said, giving a little smile.

He was starting to figure her out. He knew she meant that she drove people crazy but not in a sexual way. Which may have some truth to it but did not interest him right now. He didn’t want her to hide her insecurity, or whatever it was, behind a joke, so instead of answering he bent over, shifted her curls out of the way, and kissed the nape of her neck. She shivered. He got hard.

There was just something about her. He shifted down lower, along her shoulder, then to the swell of her breast. He waited for her to stop him but she didn’t, so he kissed the delicate flesh then raised his head. “I hope that didn’t happen at your prom.”

“No, not even close. My date was using me as an in to my best friend.”

“Did you give him a douche award? Because he deserved one.”

“I didn’t. But I could retroactively.” She smiled up at him. “I like wearing heels with you. I don’t have to strain my neck.”

“We could sit down.” He caressed the small of her back. “Though I like dancing with you.”

He wanted to suggest they lie down but he didn’t want to come off like a dirtbag. But Toni took matters into her own hands. “I think you should pick me up and carry me to the bedroom. Like you mean it.”

Now his dick did a dance too. Holy hell, she was so hot when she was being so straight forward. “I’d be a damn fool to not give you what you want.” He brushed his thumb over her nipple. “And I’m no fool.”

So he scooped her up into his arms. She gave a cry, startled.

“You don’t mess around,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He indulged himself by burying his lips in her curls. “I’m a very serious guy, remember that.”

“Got it.” She laid her head on his shoulder. “You’re also a very hot guy. Just in case you didn’t know.”

“And you’re a beautiful woman.” He walked her down the hall and found the bedroom immediately on the right. Toni was clearly a tidy person, given her clean apartment, and her bed was made. He carefully set her down in front of the floral comforter, wanting the chance to unzip her dress while she was standing. He drew the back of his hand down her cheek. “Such a tiny, beautiful woman.”

He peeled off his blazer and tossed it onto her dresser. Then he reached behind her and started to take the zipper down. He kept expecting her to announce at some point this was a joke, that he was being punked. But she didn’t stop him and he really did believe she was attracted to him. She was a comedienne, not an actress, and she responded to every touch with enthusiasm.

The dress was too tight to slip down her though. It was a stretchy fabric that gaped a little at her shoulders, but for the most part it stayed exactly where it was. “I envisioned that differently,” he admitted. “I was hoping it would just disappear onto the floor.”

Toni laughed. “Bandage dress. Apparently that’s a thing.” She reached up and peeled down the straps and with a few seductive wiggles of her hips she pushed it down to her ankles.

Chance reached out a hand to hold her still so she could step out of the dress. Then it was just her, those beige heels, and red lace panties and matching bra. He swallowed hard. Now that was a view. She had an hourglass shape, the curves in all the right places. He loved that she seemed confident in her skin. She just stood there, hand on her hip with a smirk on her face and let him drink his fill.

“I’m at a loss for words.” He actually was. He’d already told her she was beautiful at least twice and that seemed redundant and inadequate. She was mouthwatering. “Maybe I’ll just show you.”

Chance swept her legs out from under her and dropped her onto her back on the bed in one smooth move.

“Whoa,” she said. “That was ridiculous. In the best way.”

“I told you that you’re tiny.” He peeled his shirt off over his head and tossed it. “I can maneuver you around before you even know what hits you.”

“Promise?” She leaned on her elbows and raised one knee.

It was a hell of a view. “For a woman who claims to not be girlie, you have that pose down perfect.” Chance undid his jeans and shoved them down. “I think you know you’re hot, you just won’t admit it.”

She opened her mouth and looked on the verge of protest. So he distracted her by cupping her breast. It worked. She just sucked in her breath and stayed silent. He explored down her body, moving in so he could kiss the path his hand was making. She made sweet sounds of pleasure and he enjoying drawing those out of her. When his touch reached her inner thigh she tensed just a little.

“Just ignore my scar,” she said. “The result of a minor childhood accident.”

Chance leaned in closer to her flesh and traced the white scar. It was in an odd pattern. “What is this? It looks weirdly familiar.”

“It’s Santa Claus.” She fell back on the bed completely with a sigh. “I jumped off the kitchen counter as a kid during holiday baking season and landed on a metal cookie cutter. There’s a reason it’s called a ‘cutter.’ It works on dough and flesh equally.”

“It’s Santa Claus?” Chance asked, both horrified and desperately wanting to laugh. “Holy shit, it is.” He could see it now even though it was faded and abstract. The boots. The hat. The sack. “Oh, baby, that’s just so…”

“Stupid?” Toni made a sound of exasperation. “This is why I make a living out of pranks. It’s my destiny. And it’s my destiny to have every sexy moment destroyed.”

But Chance wasn’t every guy. He could cut off a laugh easily. He could focus. He could be as serious as she needed him to be. He kissed behind Santa, a deep inroad to her panties. The panties that he then kissed. Which he then peeled off. Toni didn’t protest. She just stretched her arms up over her head and sighed, her eyes drifted closed when he glanced up at her.

Sexiest thing ever.

Chance kissed her soft dark curls, actually glad she wasn’t waxed. For a woman with that mass of dark thick hair on her head it would have seemed strange to him for her to be completely bare. He teased his tongue over her and tasted her fully. Her soft little moans encouraged him to keep up a slow, sensual rhythm. He lost himself in the moment, in the way her legs wrapped around him, and her body responded. When she exploded he felt intensely satisfied. He had done that.

Hell yeah. He had grabbed a condom from his pocket before he had shucked them so he quickly put it on before Toni could change that gorgeous position. She looked perfect with her hair spilled across the bed, her breasts heaving behind the lace bra, and her lips parted in pleasure.

“That felt amazing,” she said.

“It did.” He bent down and kissed her. Hard. “You want some more?”

She nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

Chance needed no other encouragement. He thrust inside her and paused there for a second, just to savor. Damn, that freaking felt good.

Toni didn’t know what was happening to her life. Chance, the hot stuntman, had gone down on her like it was his job. Without any encouragement from her. He had just taken her with his tongue, and delivered her the best orgasm she’d had in years. And he hadn’t even laughed at her ludicrous scar. She still to this day blamed her oldest brother John for that for goading her into jumping.

But for the first time ever in her encounters with the opposite sex, Chance had seen the scar and had not busted a gut. All he had done was given her a small smile before he destroying her with his tongue. Now he was inside her and everything that had ever been wrong at any point during her twenty-eight years of life no longer mattered because this was ecstasy. Straight up amazing.

“Don’t ever stop,” she told him, and she sincerely meant that.

If she died right now like this, she would be cool with that, because the man had the hottest damn body and cock she had ever encountered. It was all hard muscle, everywhere, surrounding her. Moving over her, in her.

Having a second orgasm was no mean feat, it was simply a given. It took her all of about one minute. Chance’s eyes narrowed with desire, like he was surprised himself she had come again that quickly. She gave him a little shrug.

“That was your fault,” she told him, digging her nails into his insane biceps and enjoying the aftershocks.

“I didn’t even have to pull out the big guns,” he said.

“There are bigger guns?” she asked, astonished. “Oh hell, that might kill me.”

“Next time.”

Interesting. Chance was still moving inside her, their bodies entangled, and he was talking next time. She hadn’t given it any thought honestly. She had been living in the moment, but she would not object to more of this. To more of him. He was a nice guy. She liked hanging out with him.

And being naked with him? Major bonus.

“So you want to kill me?” she asked, feigning distress.

He gave her a grin that was so naughty, so filthy, she felt it all the way through her. “I want to destroy you.”

Wow. She might already be there.

When Chance picked up the pace and thrust hot and hard and fast into her, she came yet again much to her utter shock.

He didn’t look shocked at all. He looked like given the time, he would wring every last orgasm out of her that he could. She wasn’t even sure he came, though she assumed he did, because he was intense and even and hard as hell to read. He just eased up and came to a slow stop, leaning in to kiss her.

“You’re perfect,” he said.

No, he was. Because what the actual hell? Sexy, good-looking, and great in bed? Other than being a little confused by slapstick humor, he was an amazing guy and she could work with that.

Her first instinct was to say, “you’re drunk,” but then she realized it was kind of a cool moment. Why laugh it off? “Thanks,” she murmured. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She was fairly certain no one had ever accused her of perfection before so she should just enjoy it.

“You didn’t film this, did you?” he asked as he settled on his side next to her.

That made her laugh softly. “Yeah, Ned’s in the closet. I forgot to tell you.” She gave his arm a half-hearted slap, feeling exhausted even though she hadn’t even done any of the heavy lifting. “Don’t be silly.”

“I am not silly. I’m very dignified.” He gestured to his naked body.

She rolled her eyes and allowed herself to snuggle in against him. He had a great chest. It was designed to be draped over.

“Can I see you again?” he asked. “Just to get that out of the way.”

Inside, she squealed like her sixteen-year-old self at the Aerosmith concert. She hadn’t been into boy bands, unlike her teen counterparts. She had liked classic rock. Just like she was into Chance. Big time. Keeping it cool, which was a struggle, she said, “Sure. That would be fun.”

World’s biggest understatement.

Especially when he flipped her onto her back without warning and kissed her. His fingers teased at her wet opening. “Can I see you come again?”

“That one is on you, buddy.” Though if she were a betting woman she’d throw every last penny on the table.

She was right.