Baddest Bad Boys(10)

“Finger f*cking?” he went on. “Has any guy ever made you come?”

She thought about it, biting her lip. “Well…there was this party in college once. I drank too much, and passed out on a pile of coats. And when I woke up, this guy I barely knew had his hand in my underwear. It was really gross. So I guess that doesn’t count.”

“I guess not.” His face was hard. “What did you do?”

“Screamed,” she admitted. “Kicked him.”

“Good,” he said savagely. “Asshole. I’m glad you woke up when you did. Who was the shit?”

“Who cares?” she asked.

“I do,” he said. “Guys who molest unconscious girls deserve to be neutered. To improve the quality of the human gene pool.”

“Oh.” She peeked at his profile. “I don’t remember his name.”

The fire crackled. Crazy shadows from the flickering lamp roamed over the walls. She stared at the stark planes and shadows of his face, and wondered if she should read any softening of his position into all these sexually charged questions. She didn’t know him that well, in spite of having a crush on him for fourteen years.

But hell with it. He’d had a little time to get used to the shocking idea. And he was asking questions that made her thighs tingle and her face turn pink. What did she have to lose? Why not just…try again?

More aggressively, this time. Men were simple physical creatures, or so she’d been told. In thrall to their own bodies. Stimulus equals response. The only problem now was that she was too scared to move.

For God’s sake. She wasn’t asking him to marry her. She wanted what he gave a different woman every week. No big f*cking deal. Really.

She got up, pulled off the sweatshirt, and felt his tension rise.

“Put that right back on,” he said softly.

She spun, with a burst of fierce resolve, planted her knee next to him and swung the other over his lap. He made a shocked sound, and tried to wrestle her off. She countered by putting her weight on his crotch. His fingers tightened on her arms. “What the f*ck is this?”

“I just want to convince you that it’s worth the catastrophe.”

He caught his breath as she undulated on his lap. “Oh, God.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured him. “Don’t worry. You’re absolved of blame. I jumped you. There was nothing you could do.”

“Bullshit! I outweigh you by at least eighty pounds! Get off me!”

She took a deep breath, arched her back, popped open the buttons on her chemise top. One…then two…three. It gaped.

He stared down at her, his breathing quickening. “Oh, Jesus.”

She shrugged the garment off. “You don’t have to go all the way, if you’re so anxious,” she coaxed. “But could you reduce my virgin status by a few dinky, insignificant percentage points? Is it so much to ask?”

His hands were shaking. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“No? Why not?” She cuddled closer. “Just touch me. Please, Jon.”

She pried his hands off her arms. His fingers had left marks. She dropped soothing kisses on his hands, uncurled the clawed fingers, and pressed them against her breasts. He made a harsh, gasping sound.

She gasped, went motionless. She’d been so focused on getting this far with him, she’d lost sight of her feelings. The fear, the hunger. The electric touch of his hot, callused hands made full awareness come roaring back. And the movements she made against his body were far from calculated now. They were involuntary.

Jon put both hands on her breasts, cupping them. He ran his thumbs around her taut nipples, and made a low, tortured sound.

Then he leaned forward and put his mouth to her.

3


Stop. Just stop it. Put her perfect squirming ass somewhere other than right on top of your dick. Then go fall face first into the snowmelt, and cool…the f*ck…down. Now.

The orders weren’t making it to command central, though, and this crazy thing was picking up momentum while the rational, adult choice maker inside him watched, tied and gagged.

Her tits were perfect. The springy softness and those puckered nipples, the sinuous way she moved, oh, Jesus. So sexy. So silky and smooth and gorgeous. Too much. He was on overload.

She cradled his head in her slender arms, whimpering, her slender body shivering at each hungry stroke of his tongue, and all he could think was how much he wanted to peel off those jeans, spread her out and show her just how big the trouble she was in really was.

Whoa. She wasn’t up for anything wild. Even if he were going to indulge. Which he wasn’t. She was a virgin. Full of soft focus, pink-tinged, unrealistic expectations. Programmed to go gooey on him. To say nothing of way too small. Turned on as he was, he couldn’t be as gentle as he would need to be. That kind of thing required cast-iron self control. Hah. He was in danger of coming in his pants like a kid.

Her naked waist was clamped in his hands, so narrow, his fingers almost touched, but he felt the catlike play of lean, lithe muscle beneath. His hands roved hungrily, exploring that deep curve, that flare, those jeans that barely clung to her hips. The cleft of her ass.

Her hair was silky against his face. Her lips soft against his hot forehead. Her lip gloss smelled sugary, fruity. He was salivating to taste it, to lick and savor those soft, full, shining lips. Find her tongue. Kiss her senseless. She flung her head back, eyes closed, breath quickening.