She opened her eyes to watch him saunter back to her. She loved what she saw.
He had a rough walk. A walk filled with self-confidence. He should feel good, the way he looked. His arms were big and wiry under his tee shirt and his jeans slung low on his hips. He looked at her with a question, as if he expected her to bolt out the back, and she should.
She should. But she didn’t want to.
The urge to flee was almost as strong as the anticipation of staying. Both emotions made her skin thrum.
“I’ve never done this before.” Her voice came out a whisper.
“Then it’s a first for both of us.”
“You’re too cute to not have women fall at you.”
“I never take them up on it. I like to make the first move.”
“Oh.” She looked up at him and he kissed the tip of her nose.
His fingers caressed her back and flipped the hook of her bra. Hard, rough hands engulfed her waist and running up, lifted her arms and swept her shirt over her head. Even though the air was hot, it shivered her skin, puckering her nipples again. He leaned down and swept one into his mouth with his tongue, flicking the other with his finger. Shocks ran down her legs and wired in straight to her center. She moaned and pulled at his pants button.
“Not yet.”
“Please?” She hated sounding needy.
“No.”
He ran his hands up the sides of her thighs, bunching the jean fabric of her skirt around her waist. The perfume of her arousal caressed her nose. She heard him inhale and the thread of tension vanished.
No comments:
Post a Comment