But I move forward slowly, so that I can step up behind his chair. Brushing his hand aside and ignoring the zap of heat that rushes through me at just that little contact, I take a deep breath, then place both of my hands on his bare shoulders. He tenses, then grunts and twists his neck to one side. His skin is hot beneath my fingers, soft and velvety. The contrast between his darkly tanned skin and my pale fingers is thrilling. I don’t remember the last time I touched a man like this.
I start slow, massaging the back of his neck at the base of his skull, and work my way down. Across his impossibly wide, hard shoulders that are so beautifully made, ridged with tight muscle. He groans as I work on a particularly tight knot in the base of his neck that extends down his right shoulder blade, his head dropping forward until it nearly touches his chest. He’s braced his elbows on his widespread knees, allowing me better access to the broad expanse of his back and shoulders. His body is amazing, and I’m a little embarrassed at how turned on I am just by rubbing this man’s shoulders.
“Fucking hell that hurts,” he grunts through gritted teeth. I chuckle lightly, backing off my touch a little. He reaches his left hand up and covers my fingers with his, holding me there. Histouch burns through me, heating me up from the inside. His hand falls away. “Don’t stop. Please.”
My fingers are starting to ache, but I keep going until he’s a pliant, mushy pile of goo in the chair before me. I smile in the dark as I stare at the back of his head, which is tipped down low. His dark hair looks incredibly soft, and I let myself slide my fingers up the back of his neck and into the hairline at the base of his skull, using my nails to scratch lightly. The strands of dark hair are like silk against my fingertips, and I do it again. Goosebumps flash across his shoulders and he shivers, a groan escaping him. Though this time, the sound isn’t one of that pleasurable-pain from massaging a sore muscle, but more guttural, more primal. Sexual.
The sound skitters through me, and I realize then that I’m damn near panting, standing behind him, my fingers shoved up through his hair. My heart is beating a frantic rhythm in my chest.
He raises his head and turns just the slightest, my hand following the movement, still threaded through his hair, until I’m staring at him in profile. The silvery, incandescent light of the moon highlights his features. He doesn’t look at me as he reaches down to set the forgotten beer on the ground, then that same hand comes up and takes hold of my wrist in a firm grip.
I’m shaking, trembling where I stand behind him as his warm fingers wrap around my wrist. My hand slides out of his hair to rest on his shoulder. He tugs lightly, guiding me around the side of the chair until I’m standing directly in front of him, then pulls me forward so that I’m forced to step in between his wide spread knees. The outsides of my thighs—bare to high thigh beneath the short hem of the robe and my sleep shorts—brush against the insides of his. The dusting of dark hair on his legs tickles the outsides of my thighs, a sensation I haven’t felt in so long, and it’s electric and thrilling. My fingers trace along the ridges of his shoulders, feather light, as my eyes collide with the pale blue ofhis. His gaze is hot, so fucking hot, as he stares at me, before those eyes drop to my mouth.
From where he’s sitting in the chair, the top of his head is level with the bottom of my chin. His fingers are still wrapped around my wrist, though his grip is light and tentative. Those fingers trail across the outside of my forearm from my wrist to my elbow until he’s cupping the outside of my bicep in his palm.
I stop breathing altogether when he turns his head and presses his lips to the inside of my wrist, where I’m sure my pulse is practically galloping beneath my skin. He kisses the sensitive flesh and my breath rushes in and out as heat envelopes me from head to toe, and it has nothing to do with the summer temperature. His short cropped beard tickles the inside of my wrist, and I shiver.
“Teddy,” he whispers against my flesh, his lips moving almost imperceptibly, his voice coming out low and husky. Just this man’s voice is an aphrodisiac to my starved libido.
His eyes meet mine again, hot and so intense it stuns me with the way heseesme. Like he really sees me. It’s alarming and disarming andGodI’ve missed being looked at like this.
At some point while I’d been massaging his shoulders, my robe shifted, and the top folds of it hang over the tie at my waist, revealing the tank top beneath that’s barely covering my breasts. His other hand moves slowly, almost as if he’s trying not to spook me into running, and tugs at one of the ties of the belt until it falls away, letting the sides of the robe drop open entirely. All that covers me now is the thin tank top and the barely-there sleep shorts that have bunched up around the thick part of my thighs.
He groans out a quiet sigh, pressing his mouth into my wrist again while his eyes travel over me, and then the fingers that just laid me open slide over the curve of my waist beneath the robe, palming my hip. I can’t help it, my eyes flutter closed and my fingers tighten where they’re clutching his hard shoulders. The heat of his hand through my tank top is like an inferno, so hot it’smelting me from the inside out. That same palm slides around my waist to my back, urging me closer, and I don’t think… I just do.
I step closer, bringing my chest nearly to his cheek. I’m practically panting now, my chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and my heart is pounding in my chest like a jackhammer. Xander turns his head, his lips leaving the sensitive flesh at my wrist and his mouth grazes the curve of my breast through my tank top. I let my head drop back so that I can stare up at the stars through the trees above us, my panting breaths the only sound in the silence of the night.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice wrapping around me at the same time his arms do. Pulling me closer, until our bodies are pressed against each other. My fingers slide into his hair again, clutching his head to me as he presses kisses to the curves of my breasts, which are aching and I so badly want to feel his mouth on me but I’m too terrified to ask. “So fucking pretty, Teddy.”
His hands are hot as they travel down my hips and over my ass to the backs of my bare thighs. Fingers digging into the V between my legs, he smooths his palms up and down my legs again and again. Clamping my teeth over my bottom lip, I squeeze my eyes shut, embarrassment wracking through me as this adonis of a man slides his hands over the softness that is everywhere on me.
I’m not fit. I’m not small. And this man is stupidly, outrageously attractive.
I gasp when those fingers dig in between my thighs, spreading them wider, and then he’s pulling me forward again, spreading my legs over his to straddle his thighs. I land on him with another sharp gasp and immediately try to stand, to raise my weight off of him. The chair creaks in protest of our combined weight and I’m mortified all over again. “Xander, let me up?—”
But his hands are at my waist again, sliding beneath the hemof my tank top and holding me in place. “You’re right where I want you, beautiful.”
“But—”
“Shhh,” he whispers, reaching up to thread his fingers into the back of my hair, lightly, gently. His eyes are intense on mine, his breathing ragged, chest heaving. His thigh muscles bunch and shift beneath me and I can feel just how hard his abs are. God this man is gorgeous. “I’ve wanted to feel you against me. You feel fucking perfect right where you are. Fuck, Teddy, this is all I’ve wanted. All I’ve thought about.”
“Xander,” I whimper, my eyes bouncing between his. I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t done anything like this in so long, and not with anyone other than Logan… well, ever. But I want this. I’m aching between my thighs, low in my belly, and I think I’m damn near desperate to finally feel his mouth on mine, to taste him… The fingers in the back of my hair tighten, tilting my head toward his.
“I don’t want to do something you don’t want,” he whispers roughly, his eyes dropping to my mouth. “But goddamn, I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now, beautiful.”
A stuttered, shaky breath escapes my parted lips, and I nod.
No part of me is prepared for Xander’s mouth on mine, though. He slants his mouth over mine hungrily, lips parting almost immediately, tongue darting out to tease the seam of my lips. I gasp sharply and it allows him entrance, and the first touch of his tongue to mine is like a lightning strike to my nervous system.
My entire being is on fire, and the only thing that I want right now is Xander’s mouth on mine.
Holy shit, he knows how to kiss. I’m a melted puddle in his lap, and he presses me against him, gathering me close in those big, strong arms that I could get lost in. His hands are sure and steady as they roam over my body, touching me everywhere as we kiss and kiss until we’re both breathless. His palms slide overmy biceps, urging me to wrap my arms around his neck, so I do and lean into the kiss. I’ve never been kissed like this before. It’s like he uses his entire body, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
Those hands slide down my back to land on the full curve of my waist, fingers digging into the fleshy part of my ass, kneading roughly, then gentling his touch to soothe the little hurt. I rock against him and he shifts beneath me, sliding down in the seat, at the same time adjusting me over him, spreading my thighs wider over his. I’m burning up, trembling against him. My desire for him is all encompassing. I’m so far out of my element, but I don’t want to stop, either.
“Holy fuck,” he rasps against my mouth as he digs his fingers into my hips again, grinding me over him, and with the new position, I feel him; hard and heavy between my thighs, pressing against the very center of me. Groaning roughly, he grasps my face between his hands and rolls his forehead across mine, our mouths barely brushing as we gasp together in the dark.“Goddamn, Teddy. You feel so fucking good. Youtasteso fucking good.”
His fingers smooth across my cheeks, pushing my hair away from my face, and then he’s kissing me again like he’s a man on death row and I’m his last meal. I’ve never been so turned on by kissing. The man is incredible at this and I never want to stop. I never want this feeling to go away. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed being desired so deeply there’s no stopping it, no holding it off for later.
