“Yes.”
“You were wrong.”
“Never been so glad to be so wrong in my entire life.”
He dipped his head, and breathed me in.
“Fuck. Me. I can smell your arousal.”
“You can smell it?”
“Damn right. And woman? You are turned on as hell.”
I swallowed. “Gonna do anything about that?”
He lifted his head to meet my eyes, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You liar. You know exactly what you want. Don’t be shy with me now.”
He was right.
I did know.
“Taste me, Brooks,” I croaked. “Taste me until I beg for more.”
He slid up my body to peer at me for a moment and then his head dipped . . .
His mouth was hot and featherlight as he kissed his way across my flesh toward my lips.
Brooks robbed me of my senses, and I angled toward him. His tongue slid into my inviting mouth, and I wondered if my body would be as welcoming.
He kissed me and kissed me, tasting me. Deep. Erotic.
When he broke our lips apart, I was dizzy with passion.
“Fuck,” he murmured. “Your eyes are already glazed. And that’s just from me kissing you.”
He stared at my breasts with a look of wonder and reverence.
And then his head lowered to a peak.
He engulfed my nipple with his mouth.
I needed something to hold on to, so I grabbed the back of his head. My fingers sank into his dark hair.
He teased my nipple, pulled and sucked on it until it was hard. It was like a wire was strung between my breast and my core and with each tug, I throbbed between my legs.
My head was thrown back and I was slippery between my thighs. I wanted more and I was on the verge of begging.
I gently stroked him over the fly of his jeans; he was stiff and ready for me.
He released my nipple with a pop and then gently swirled a finger around the other.
“Lay back, Freckles,” he growled. “Show me how wet you are.”
Biting my lip, I widened my legs.
