Best Man for Hire (Entangled Lovestruck) (Front and Center) by Tawna Fenske Page A

the tiny row of buttons up the front of her dress, wishing like hell they were snaps or Velcro or fucking nonexistent. She needed him to undo the goddamn buttons and bury his face between her breasts, sliding his tongue from one nipple to the other and devouring her like a starving man.
    She also needed him to keep moving his hand up her thigh.
    He’s so goddamn perfect, why doesn’t he have three hands?
    Moaning a little in the back of her throat, she wriggled her fingers through the armrest and into his lap. Her palm grazed something hard and solid through the fabric of his shorts, and she used the points of her knuckles to stroke the length of him.
    Good Lord. That’s not a third hand, but it’s certainly bigger than a baby’s arm.
    She fumbled with his zipper, wanting to wrap her hand around him, to feel his length gripped snug in her palm. He moaned a little in the back of his throat. She felt him start to release her leg, and she drew her hand back and clamped it around his. Holding it in place, she drew back and met his eyes.
    “Let me,” she said, and reached for the front of her dress.
    She fumbled with the first two buttons, then found her rhythm and undid three more, baring the tops of her breasts. Grant wasted no time moving his mouth to the naked expanse of skin, his free hand sliding the other shoulder strap down. Anna closed her eyes and breathed in the ocean air, heady with the caress of the evening breeze on her bare breasts. She’d never been so grateful for her less than ample chest, which meant going braless was totally an option.
    Thank God for fewer layers, fewer hooks and buttons, and anything separating her from this man with the magical mouth.
    Grant stroked her nipple with his left thumb, while his tongue made languid strokes over the other breast. She groaned and slid her hands into his hair—what little there was, she thought as she savored the soft prickle of his buzz cut under her palms. God, this man was a playground for her fingers. His scalp felt warm in her hands, and the things he was doing with his mouth—
    “Oh, God, don’t stop.”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, his voice making pleasant vibrations against her sternum as his lips trailed from one breast to the other.
    She let one hand stray down his back and nearly groaned at the feel of all that muscle. Did this guy spend every waking hour at the gym, or was he just really gifted?
    Really gifted , her brain telegraphed as his hand slid farther up her thigh, his thumb stroking her through her panties. She gasped, knowing how wet she was, how badly she wanted him, how urgently she needed his—
    Ding-dong!
    Anna opened her eyes and blinked, trying to orient herself amid the buzzing in her brain and the hum of pleasure pulsing through her body.
    The chime sounded again, and Grant pulled his mouth from her nipple long enough to murmur, “Doorbell,” against the underside of her breast.
    Then he went back to kissing her, his mouth on hers again, the heel of his right hand brushing over her nipples. His left hand was buried under her dress, fingers sliding beneath the elastic of her panties. The tips of two fingers dipped inside her, sinking into her wetness as he stroked her with his—
    Ding-dong!
    “Oh, God,” she gasped as the pad of his thumb found her clit, circling and sliding and making her crazy with heat. He buried two fingers deeper into her, using her wetness to glide and tease and stroke her to the brink of delirium. Anna closed her eyes again as his thumb circled faster, finding a rhythm as his fingers pulsed inside her and drew back, then pressed into her again. She gripped the back of his head, urging him on as he drew one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in dizzying circles as Anna gasped and writhed and urged him to plunge deeper with his—
    Ding-dong!
    “Oh, for crying out loud!”
    She opened her eyes and looked back through the house, thinking seriously about throttling