Her favorite flavor, or justhers?
His dick twitched, fully on board with both options. “What’s mine is yours,” he said, attempting to keep his voice nonchalant. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything as badly as he wanted to see her on her knees with her lips wrapped around him.
She swiped at his pecs with her towel. “Then dry off, Slick.” After toweling herself, she grabbed her clothes and opened the door, releasing the steamy air into the dimly lit living room. With a glance over her shoulder, she said, “Meet you in the bedroom.”
He tripped over himself to get dry and follow her, sliding his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzling the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. She spun in his arms and drew him in for a sizzling kiss that drove the breath from his lungs and the strength from his legs.
Like before, when she’d driven him wild in the shower, her hands glided over his bare skin, caressing, arousing. He returned the favor, weighing her soft breasts in his palms, flicking his thumbs over her nipples just to elicit the tiny moans and that little catch in her breath that made him feel like a god.
As they kissed, she gently steered him around until the back of his legs hit the bed. He would’ve killed for a condom, for the chance to lay her on the sheets and bury himself deep inside her over and over again.
Not that he could complain. Her mouth brushed over his chin, moving slowly lower in concert with her hands, as she licked and caressed every sensitive spot on his body. Hell, they wereallsensitive, and growing more so as she moved lower.
“Sit,” she commanded, gripping his hips and tugging him down.
Like he was going to say no. The second his bottom hit the bed, she moved between his knees and took him deep into her hot, wet mouth.
Heaven. He groaned embarrassingly loud and flopped back onto the mattress, closing his eyes so his world was reduced to only her mouth—and holy fuck, her hands—as she sucked and licked and even scraped gently with her teeth. How the hell was he supposed to breathe?
His fingers twisted in her damp hair as she caressed his balls and pumped his lower shaft and did wicked things with her lips and—
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.
The orgasm hit him like an armored truck. Just straight up annihilated him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TODD SAT ON the couch ten minutes later, still reeling from pleasure as he finished bandaging his wound. It probably needed stitches, but he’d live. Chicks dug scars, right?
The only chick he wanted emerged from the bathroom with damp hair curling around her shoulders, her face shiny and beautiful. “I wish I had my glasses,” she said, plopping down next to him on the couch. “These contacts are about at the end of their useful life.”
He tilted his head. Her eyes were such a fascinating blend of rich brown with a starburst of gold and those dark speckles. “I’ll bet you look sexy in glasses.”
Her light laughter filled his chest, and her cheeks flushed. “Sexy is not the word I’d use, but they’re fine. I like being able to see, so…” She lifted her hand, palm up. “Contacts are easier, especially since I can use extended-wear, but sometimes I just need a break.”
“I don’t need reading glasses all the time, but at night my eyes get too tired to focus.”
“Ooh.” The way she eyeballed him ignited his blood all over again. “Reading glasses on a hot guy are about the sexiest thing ever.”
“Really?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “What’sthesexiest thing ever?”
“A hot,nakedguy, reading. Glasses optional.”
“That could be arranged.”
“Oh yeah? You have a friend who’d be willing?”
He pinned her to the couch. “So you’re just passing the time with me until someone better comes along, eh?” His belly tightened. Wasn’t that exactly what they were doing? Passing time until reality ripped them apart?
Her pupils widened and her smile faded as she reached up to twirl a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Everything in him ached at her soft words. Suddenly the idea of a future without her seemed unbearable. Which made him every kind of fool.
She kissed him, gently, sweetly, tugging at his heart—and lower. He pulled back before he lost his will and pushed up to sitting. “You want something to drink?”
Her brow scrunched and she nodded. “A glass of water would be great.”
In the kitchen, he busied himself making a cup of hot tea for himself, more to have something to do while his body calmed down than anything.
