His eyebrows lift. “You didn’t think I could manage closing a window?”
I cross my arms and refuse to elaborate.
His expression hardens. “What exactly do you think I am? A useless soy boy? A hippie incapable of solving practical problems?”
The moment those words are out, a ginormousoopsflashes in his eyes. It lasts a fraction of a second before his expression shifts into his usual unreadable mask.
I stare at him with defiance. “You’re a flamboyantly inked tattoo artist. Are you not? Forgive me for assuming that fixing a jammed window wasn’t part of your skill set.”
My taunt hits a sensitive nerve. He drops his poker face again—twice within a minute!—and lets his hand fall off my shoulder.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he says, his voice low and his eyes aflame.
I lock my gaze on his. “Then fill me in.”
“Oh, I’m going to fill you in, Laura, without delay.” He steps closer. “Orally first?”
It isn’t so much the double entendre as the raw lust in his eyes that flips some secret switch deep inside me. Suddenly, I’m horny beyond belief.Dammit!How can I be so mad at him, so annoyed at my own weakness, and so turned on all at once?
For a moment, I just stare at him, unable to form a coherent reply. The tension—sexual and otherwise—crackles between us. The sultry image his words conjured up in my head won’t go away. Worse, it gets more vivid by the second.
He leans in and rasps. “Admit you want it.”
“I—”
The words catch in my throat.You bet I do.I’m already wet just thinking about it.
“Laura,” he says. “You drive me crazy. In every way.”
And then he kisses me. It’s sudden and fierce. Even as my brain scrambles to catch up with what’s happening, I’m kissing him back, eagerly, hungrily. His hands slip around my waist to pull me closer. My arms slide around his neck. The kiss is allheat and frustration—a truly wild mixture. When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless like I’ve just run a marathon. My thoughts are spinning. My knees are weak.
Which reminds me. I kneel comfortably before him. His bulge twitches in response, making me smile.
Aren’t we eager?
I take my time as I unbuckle his pants. His breathing becomes staggered, heavy.
He sinks his hands into my hair. “Laura.”
It sounds like a plea. He adds something too bungled to make out, but I get the gist from the desperation in his voice.
What happened to the dirty puns,chéri? None come to mind?
I’m faster with the zipper than I was with the buckle. He releases a ragged sigh when his erection springs free. Now desperate myself, I waste no time in taking him into my mouth. I use my hands, lips, and tongue to pleasure every inch of his engorged cock. I savor the feel of it, the heady scent of his skin, and the way his hard flesh quivers and shudders as I take him as deep as I can.
Antoine groans above me, tangling his fingers in my hair. His hips start to move in time with my rhythm. It’s been only a week since we started having sex, but we’re already a well-oiled team. When I go down on him, he knows he can allow himself to come, because I know he’ll be ready again in five minutes—tops. There’s no holding back for either of us. I increase the pressure and pace. He hardens even more in response, twitching, straining against the inside of my cheeks.
I know he’s close when he takes full command of the action. His big hands grip my hair as he rocks into me, his hips jutting out and his head thrown back.
Is it wrong to find this hot as hell?
Even if it is, I don’t care. My hands wander over his hips to his muscular ass. I stroke it and squeeze it, delighting in its perfect shape and firmness. With a final groan, he ejaculates. I swallow everything, enjoying the tangy, savory taste.
My name on his lips, he pulls me up.
“I really like your butt,” I say.
He skews a crooked, sexy smile. “I could tell.”
