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Forty Nine

Tasha woke to the feel of a hot mouth kissing her nape and a large hand sliding up and down her bare thigh. Images of last night flashed in front of her eyes, feeding the need that was building in her system.

A moan slipped out of her when Onyx's hand dipped between her legs and his finger slid between her folds. But when she shifted to try to take that finger inside her, he withdrew his hand—a message that he was leading here. Cheeky shit had done stuff like that all night.

When an impish idea whispered into her mind, she smiled. “God, that feels so good, John,” she rasped. Instantly she was flipped onto her back and there was an extremely pissed male draped over her.

As she laughed uncontrollably beneath him, realization dawned on Onyx. He narrowed his eyes. “That was sneaky. And who the fuck is John?”

“No idea. I was just paying you back for teasing me—again.”

He spoke against he
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