connoisseur should.”
She relaxed against him. Finally he gave in and licked her nipple, taking the chocolate off in one thorough
Page 23
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
swoop of his tongue.
She gasped and arched beneath him, brushing her lower body against his. He pushed back, making her
feel his cock. Her little moan, and the way her body seemed designed to cradle him, excited him. Damn,
she was made right. Made perfectly for the kind of sex he wanted.
Bryce reached for the hem of her chemise and Jenna felt her body melt. She should really not be doing
this. Knew that there would be embarrassing regrets tomorrow morning, not to mention the destruction of
her plan.
How was she supposed to tell her body to shut down, to stop feeling the delicate touch of Bryce’s
hands, to stop wanting to be filled with the massive cock he kept brushing against the apex of her thighs?
She was soaked. Her arousal had seeped onto the fly of Bryce’s jeans. He knew how wet she was. He
no doubt felt it—that was why he was pressing against her more insistently.
She could lie, could tell herself all sorts of things about why she shouldn’t be doing this. But one thing she
couldn’t do was make her body reject Bryce. Her body wanted his so much, so badly, that her hips
started slowly undulating, rising up to meet his denim-covered groin as they began to grind into each
other.
“You’re so hot, baby,” Bryce said to her as she felt the lace hem slide up over her thighs. That voice, and
those sexy words, made her drenched in one flush. And he knew, because he slowly circled her with the
tip of his erection, soaking up her wetness with the front of his jeans.
“How hot do you want to get, Jenna?”
She couldn’t answer. She just gulped as she felt his hands brush the undersides of her breasts as the
chemise rode up over her chest.
“How hot in here do you want it to be?”
On a scale of one to ten? Try a hundred.But she was robbed of speech when the chemise was pulled
over her head and she was lying beneath Bryce, wearing nothing but pink lace panties.
He eased away from her and straddled her hips with his thighs. Jenna held out her arms, wanting him
back against her. But he shook his head while he trailed his hands along her body, feeling every curve
and indentation. Every imperfection that Jenna had hoped to hide.
“How hot, Jenna?”
“Hot,” she finally answered. “As hot as you can make me.”
His hand snaked into the waistband of her panties. He brushed his fingers down the middle of her, parting
her. She nodded, letting her thighs fall apart, giving him more access. His fingers worked magic on her.
She was wet and slick and ready for him.
Never had she gotten this wet, this fast. But then, never had she been with someone like Bryce. Someone
she loved.
Bryce was leaning over her, covering her nose and lips with tiny kisses as he worked his hand between
her folds, while the impressive size of his erection continued to press into her belly through his jeans. If
she wasn’t paralyzed with passion, she would have reached out and touched him, but she couldn’t move.
“Damn, Jenna, you feel good beneath me.”
She writhed as he put another finger inside her and slowed his rhythm. She protested and bucked up
against him, telling him without words that she wanted more of him, wanted his touch harder, deeper.
“I can make you hotter,” he said darkly. “I want you scalding, Jenna. I want you combustible.”
Oh, she was close to combusting. Another stroke or two and she’d be there. But he suddenly cooled,
depriving her of the flames.
“What?” she asked, but he caught her mouth and kissed her.
She could hardly believe it, not after ten years, but they were finally making out on her couch. And Holy
Mother of God, Bryce Ryder could kiss!
He was slow and lazy with his kisses, but masterful. His tongue and fingers were thrusting forward
She relaxed against him. Finally he gave in and licked her nipple, taking the chocolate off in one thorough
Page 23
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
swoop of his tongue.
She gasped and arched beneath him, brushing her lower body against his. He pushed back, making her
feel his cock. Her little moan, and the way her body seemed designed to cradle him, excited him. Damn,
she was made right. Made perfectly for the kind of sex he wanted.
Bryce reached for the hem of her chemise and Jenna felt her body melt. She should really not be doing
this. Knew that there would be embarrassing regrets tomorrow morning, not to mention the destruction of
her plan.
How was she supposed to tell her body to shut down, to stop feeling the delicate touch of Bryce’s
hands, to stop wanting to be filled with the massive cock he kept brushing against the apex of her thighs?
She was soaked. Her arousal had seeped onto the fly of Bryce’s jeans. He knew how wet she was. He
no doubt felt it—that was why he was pressing against her more insistently.
She could lie, could tell herself all sorts of things about why she shouldn’t be doing this. But one thing she
couldn’t do was make her body reject Bryce. Her body wanted his so much, so badly, that her hips
started slowly undulating, rising up to meet his denim-covered groin as they began to grind into each
other.
“You’re so hot, baby,” Bryce said to her as she felt the lace hem slide up over her thighs. That voice, and
those sexy words, made her drenched in one flush. And he knew, because he slowly circled her with the
tip of his erection, soaking up her wetness with the front of his jeans.
“How hot do you want to get, Jenna?”
She couldn’t answer. She just gulped as she felt his hands brush the undersides of her breasts as the
chemise rode up over her chest.
“How hot in here do you want it to be?”
On a scale of one to ten? Try a hundred.But she was robbed of speech when the chemise was pulled
over her head and she was lying beneath Bryce, wearing nothing but pink lace panties.
He eased away from her and straddled her hips with his thighs. Jenna held out her arms, wanting him
back against her. But he shook his head while he trailed his hands along her body, feeling every curve
and indentation. Every imperfection that Jenna had hoped to hide.
“How hot, Jenna?”
“Hot,” she finally answered. “As hot as you can make me.”
His hand snaked into the waistband of her panties. He brushed his fingers down the middle of her, parting
her. She nodded, letting her thighs fall apart, giving him more access. His fingers worked magic on her.
She was wet and slick and ready for him.
Never had she gotten this wet, this fast. But then, never had she been with someone like Bryce. Someone
she loved.
Bryce was leaning over her, covering her nose and lips with tiny kisses as he worked his hand between
her folds, while the impressive size of his erection continued to press into her belly through his jeans. If
she wasn’t paralyzed with passion, she would have reached out and touched him, but she couldn’t move.
“Damn, Jenna, you feel good beneath me.”
She writhed as he put another finger inside her and slowed his rhythm. She protested and bucked up
against him, telling him without words that she wanted more of him, wanted his touch harder, deeper.
“I can make you hotter,” he said darkly. “I want you scalding, Jenna. I want you combustible.”
Oh, she was close to combusting. Another stroke or two and she’d be there. But he suddenly cooled,
depriving her of the flames.
“What?” she asked, but he caught her mouth and kissed her.
She could hardly believe it, not after ten years, but they were finally making out on her couch. And Holy
Mother of God, Bryce Ryder could kiss!
He was slow and lazy with his kisses, but masterful. His tongue and fingers were thrusting forward
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