My toes wiggle inside the soft, yummy, thick material.
“They’re clean.” He chuckles warmly. “Promise.”
Oh god. More champagne bubbles, only this time they fill my whole body.
“I really need to go.”
“No,” he counters, “you need to rest, Celeste. You had a hard evening at work before that dickhead terrorized you. ”
“I need to go to work, I have to—” I squeak when he tugs me down to lie next to him, my body suddenly nestled up to his warm strength.
“You don’t have to work,” he says with a conviction that I cannot understand.
“Yes, I do.”
“Let me worry about that.”
What?
Stiffly, I lie next to the overwhelming length of his body, more confused than ever. He barely fits on the couch and it’s a big sectional.
Why do I love his size so much?
I must have a trauma hangover.
That’s it.
But that’s beside the point. I have more pressing matters. “My rent is due, and my landlord just doubled it.”
His chest rumbles, a thick arm snakes along my back, snuggles me closer. “We’ll talk more about that.”
About my rent?
Then he…
Kisses me again. This time, I’m not as shocked, so my mouth doesn’t fly open, but he’s on it. That devilish tongue of his parting the way, making me shiver with excitement when he licks into me, a carnal conquest.
I’m afraid to admit, I love it. All the ways he tastes me. Slow and gently. Rough and deep. It’s a buffet of sensations, every one of them eliciting a different kind of tingle in my body.
This time he doesn’t only twist his fingers into my hair, his other hand goes on a walkabout. Down my spine, along my waist, where he finds skin beneath my shirt.
My breathing speeds, I’m basically panting into his mouth, fighting his tongue with mine, losing my mind.
When he grips my ribs, his thumb skating below my small breast, I whimper, throaty and loud. A sound I’ve never made in my life.
He pulls back with a curse. “Goddamn. I can’t fucking believe how good you taste, how good you feel. If that’s any indication what you’re going to be like when I get my mouth?—”
He stops himself when he realizes I’m grinning.
I blink at the ceiling. What. Is. Happening?
“Did I hit my head on the way here last night?”
He chuckles as he smoothes a hand down my hair until it’s resting warmly against my skin, cradling the back of my neck. “No, but you hit me over the head with your beauty.”
EIGHT
Chase
