evening stubble rasped under her wet tongue. “Explain it to me.”
“If I didn’t want you and trust you, I wouldn’t have asked you to open that drawer.” He swallowed. “The right woman plus the right moment.”
“The right woman, huh? I like that.”
As if to prove the point, she shoved down on the restraints she held, sinking the backs of his hands into the lightweight comforter. Her mouth pushed over his. She angled her head so that their lips matched. No wasted space. No room to maneuver. He took her kisses as she offered them—fierce, hard, greedy. The sweep of her tongue over his sent a hot jolt down to his guts. The hard-on he’d been sporting half the night was a beast now, eager to come out to play.
But that was her choice. Her decision.
Mike sank into the freedom of it. He let his mind drift on pure sensation. She still tasted of Coke, but that was giving way to the woman beneath. Her breath fanned across his cheek as she dove in for another frantic kiss. He wanted to tell her she could slow down. He wasn’t going anywhere. Yet he remained quiet, absorbing her eagerness like the burn of three fingers of bourbon.
She released his hands and sat up. With a quick toss of her arms over her head, she was topless. Just like that.
A clutching noise grated out of his throat. His upper body jerked as if he’d been struck. Christ, to receive pain from this woman…
He yanked that idea back down and shoved it away. He’d lose it if he got ahead of himself. Keeping control around Leah was going to be difficult enough without supposing more.
“Oh, that was fun,” she said with a laugh.
“What?” He didn’t sound like himself. Wrapped and wound, he was a turbine pushed to overheating.
“Seeing your face. I could do anything, couldn’t I?” A bright smile turned those crooked lips into a masterpiece. “I could touch myself right now without even letting you out of your jeans. I think I could get off just watching your face.”
“But you won’t.”
She painted her hands across his abs in a slow, worshipful slide. Her fingers thumped softly over every rib. “You hope.”
“You won’t,” he said again with more force. The only thing he had over her now was experience, and even that was likely to be fleeting. She’d wrapped his wrists as if she’d done it for years. “Otherwise it’d be like having an entire buffet laid out for your pleasure, but you stick to a bologna sandwich.”
“So you’re my buffet?”
“That’s how you’re looking at me. Turns me on, Princess.”
She tweaked his nipples so hard that he flinched. “No. No ‘Princess’. Not here.”
His laugh felt good, just a small release to the pressure. “Noted.” He caught her gaze again then ducked his eyes. “It turns me on, Leah.”
“But you don’t look at me. Why not?” She smiled and licked up from his navel—all wet and ticklish and sexy as hell. “Wait, don’t tell me. Permission again?”
He nodded. Her hair brushed over his abs, and the angle of her torso intensified the push of her pussy against his rock-hard cock.
“Well, here’s the deal, Michael.” He couldn’t suppress the shudder that worked down his spine. Leah tipped her head to the side. “What…? Michael ?”
Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he fought for calm. Fought to breathe.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You like your full name.” She grinned against his stomach then bared her teeth. At that sweet scrape, testing such sensitive skin, Mike made fists. She tugged the waistband of his jeans. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I do like that.” She tugged again, which focused his attention where he most wanted her fingers. “Here’s the deal, Michael. I want you to look at me. Whenever you want. I give you that permission. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said on a long exhalation.
He indulged. Because Leah Girardi was a beautiful woman. Her lean thighs bunched around his waist, clasping
“If I didn’t want you and trust you, I wouldn’t have asked you to open that drawer.” He swallowed. “The right woman plus the right moment.”
“The right woman, huh? I like that.”
As if to prove the point, she shoved down on the restraints she held, sinking the backs of his hands into the lightweight comforter. Her mouth pushed over his. She angled her head so that their lips matched. No wasted space. No room to maneuver. He took her kisses as she offered them—fierce, hard, greedy. The sweep of her tongue over his sent a hot jolt down to his guts. The hard-on he’d been sporting half the night was a beast now, eager to come out to play.
But that was her choice. Her decision.
Mike sank into the freedom of it. He let his mind drift on pure sensation. She still tasted of Coke, but that was giving way to the woman beneath. Her breath fanned across his cheek as she dove in for another frantic kiss. He wanted to tell her she could slow down. He wasn’t going anywhere. Yet he remained quiet, absorbing her eagerness like the burn of three fingers of bourbon.
She released his hands and sat up. With a quick toss of her arms over her head, she was topless. Just like that.
A clutching noise grated out of his throat. His upper body jerked as if he’d been struck. Christ, to receive pain from this woman…
He yanked that idea back down and shoved it away. He’d lose it if he got ahead of himself. Keeping control around Leah was going to be difficult enough without supposing more.
“Oh, that was fun,” she said with a laugh.
“What?” He didn’t sound like himself. Wrapped and wound, he was a turbine pushed to overheating.
“Seeing your face. I could do anything, couldn’t I?” A bright smile turned those crooked lips into a masterpiece. “I could touch myself right now without even letting you out of your jeans. I think I could get off just watching your face.”
“But you won’t.”
She painted her hands across his abs in a slow, worshipful slide. Her fingers thumped softly over every rib. “You hope.”
“You won’t,” he said again with more force. The only thing he had over her now was experience, and even that was likely to be fleeting. She’d wrapped his wrists as if she’d done it for years. “Otherwise it’d be like having an entire buffet laid out for your pleasure, but you stick to a bologna sandwich.”
“So you’re my buffet?”
“That’s how you’re looking at me. Turns me on, Princess.”
She tweaked his nipples so hard that he flinched. “No. No ‘Princess’. Not here.”
His laugh felt good, just a small release to the pressure. “Noted.” He caught her gaze again then ducked his eyes. “It turns me on, Leah.”
“But you don’t look at me. Why not?” She smiled and licked up from his navel—all wet and ticklish and sexy as hell. “Wait, don’t tell me. Permission again?”
He nodded. Her hair brushed over his abs, and the angle of her torso intensified the push of her pussy against his rock-hard cock.
“Well, here’s the deal, Michael.” He couldn’t suppress the shudder that worked down his spine. Leah tipped her head to the side. “What…? Michael ?”
Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he fought for calm. Fought to breathe.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You like your full name.” She grinned against his stomach then bared her teeth. At that sweet scrape, testing such sensitive skin, Mike made fists. She tugged the waistband of his jeans. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, I do like that.” She tugged again, which focused his attention where he most wanted her fingers. “Here’s the deal, Michael. I want you to look at me. Whenever you want. I give you that permission. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said on a long exhalation.
He indulged. Because Leah Girardi was a beautiful woman. Her lean thighs bunched around his waist, clasping
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