Hell or High Water (Deep Six #1)(34)
“God, Olivia,” he moaned, tilting her jaw to better align their lips. “Every time I get my mouth on you, I want to gobble you up.”
She shivered at the unabashed longing in his tone. And for the life of her, she couldn’t think of one good reason why he shouldn’t do exactly that. Being eaten alive had never sounded so good.
“I like this plan of yours,” she whispered, sliding her hands up over his shoulders and delighting in the feel of his muscles flexing beneath her questing fingers. His neck was warm against her palms in the second before she speared her hands into his hair.
Silky. She remembered that too. That his hair was softer, sleeker than any man’s should be. Of course, she soon forgot all about his hair, because…
In and out. In and out. His knowledgeable tongue plunged and retreated, mimicking the sex act in a blatantly unapologetic way. Her body responded with a flood of liquid heat between her thighs, the center of her aching around its own emptiness. She wanted to be filled. She needed to be filled. With him. Only him.
“If you’re going to gobble me up, do you want to add a topping?” she husked between deep, mind-numbing kisses. “Whipped cream? Or, oh!” He did something with his tongue that had her bare toes curling against her flip-flops. “Or maybe a cherry?” she finished with a throaty laugh.
“I don’t need any toppings,” he assured her, kissing the side of her mouth and rubbing his lips and whiskers along her cheek until he stopped at her ear. The feel of his hot, moist breath against the sensitive shell nearly had her eyes crossing. “You taste absolutely perfect all on your own.”
Oh, this man! This man was…everything. Big and strong and tough and loyal. Charming enough to coax the fish out of the water. Smart enough to challenge her at every turn. And sexy enough to give Casanova, Don Juan, and Mr. Darcy all a run for their money.
She liked him so much. Liked him enough that she wondered if maybe what she was feeling was—
No. Don’t go there. Nothing but disappointment and heartache down that path.
And she’d already had enough of those to last her a lifetime. Each Sunday when the orphanage would open up to childless parents that passed her over. Every foster family that eventually sent her back to the orphanage. Permanence, belonging, and love. They weren’t for her. Never had been. Never would be.
So she’d take what she could from Leo, whatever he was willing to give. And in return, she’d give him whatever he wanted…
Chapter Seven
12:56 p.m.…
Sixteen motherfrickin’ years old.
Apparently that’s the age one reverted to after having eschewed female companionship for a year and a half. Because if Leo’s dick throbbed any harder, he was liable to go off right there in his swim trunks. For shit’s sake, man!
Of course, Olivia wasn’t helping matters, moving against him like she was. All sinuous and sexy, meeting him kiss for kiss, caress for caress.
He hadn’t really meant for things to go this far this fast. Then again, he should have known from the last time that the minute their lips locked it was all gas, no brakes, Thelma and Louise holding hands and jettisoning off a cliff. Or in layman’s terms…it was on, cowboy!
Well, giddyup!
He sucked her delicate earlobe into his mouth, delighted to discover her skin tasted exactly like it smelled: warm, exotic flowers kissed by the sun. Her flavor flooded into his bloodstream, intoxicating him and making his head spin.
“Leo,” she moaned, pulling him closer, so close her breasts smashed flat against his chest. But still, he could tell by her busy, frustrated hands in his hair and on his shoulders that she didn’t think they were nearly close enough.
By God, neither did he.
Releasing her earlobe and opening his mouth over her pounding pulse-point, he remedied the situation by running the hand that had been squeezing her hip around until he could cup one plump globe of her delightful ass. He sealed their bodies until not one inch of electrified air remained between them, imagining what it would be like to take a bite out of her scrumptious posterior.
Of course, that imagery caused his erection to throb so painfully he was pretty sure he felt a drop of moisture gather at the tip. And, hello. It was obvious he either needed to slow this way down or speed it way up. Since he was a guy, and since it had been a year and a half, he decided to go with option number two.
All right, and sure. There was undoubtedly a whole host of things he should be doing right now, like checking his tanks, filling some extra clips for his weapon, or searching for tears in his buoyancy compensator. But honestly, he couldn’t seem to make himself care about anything other than Olivia.
Keeping one hand firmly on her butt to guide her in the bump-and-grind she had going, he used the other to grab the hem of her tank top, pushing it higher and higher. The pads of his fingers were met by rippling goose bumps. Despite that, her skin was remarkably soft. So unbelievably soft. And considering how tough she was in every other respect, that baby-fine skin was a delightful contradiction.
Soft, yet strong. Delicate, yet determined. Kissable one minute and kickass the next. She was all things paradoxical, and all things guaran-frickin’-teed to drive him wild.
“Kiss me, Leo,” she demanded, grabbing his ears and offering her succulent, open mouth to him.
“Your wish is my command,” he told her, reclaiming her lips, reclaiming that sweet, agile tongue. And for a few endless moments they danced to the age-old rhythm of foreplay. Mouths seeking, hands caressing, hips rubbing. His blood ran hot and thick through his veins, making every inch of his skin burn.