Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(32)

So she was. But not from fear or any sense of hesitation. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. This close, she could see the dark fringe of his eyelashes and tiny scars here and there, showing themselves as only slight discolorations against the darker tone of his skin. The imperfect lines of his nose where it had been broken God only knew how many times. So much pain. It made her ache to think of the torture he’d put himself through for his family, and now for a living, even if it was a good living. Lifting her hand, she gently touched one of the larger scars that almost cut into his right eyebrow.

“Savannah,” he said gruffly, “I’m going to make you say it. If you can’t, then I’ll take you back right now.”

“I want this.” She swallowed again, drew a breath. “I want you.” And all the air left her lungs, because he bent down to grasp her ass and lift her against him until they were face-to-face, her dress all bunched up in his hands, baring her legs. Through the thin material, his fingers were hot as a brand, and so close to her center, which was suddenly damp and aching. He deposited her on the kitchen island, rock-solid abs holding her thighs open. It gave her a rare flash of self-consciousness. What had she done? Maybe someone as ripped as he was preferred athletic types, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the inside of a gym. But he kissed her again and suddenly her body didn’t give a shit what it looked like—it only wanted this man.

Gently, so gently, the tips of his fingers skimmed up her arms and slipped beneath the thin straps of her dress, sliding them down. Instead of pulling her dress down as she expected, those fingers trailed back up over her shoulders, tracing her collarbones, which felt so delicate beneath his big hands. His eyes lit on the tiny pink heart tattoo she had at the edge of her right clavicle, barely any bigger than a freckle. It had no outline; she’d wanted it to look like a natural part of her skin.

“Jesus,” he rasped, his fingertips circling it. “That’s the sexiest f*cking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Somehow she found it within her to laugh, but it came out a mere gust of air. “That?” As if to show her how much he meant it, his mouth went to where his fingers had been, and her head fell back, her legs tightening around him.

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’ll be happy to know, then, that I have three more just like that one. I’ll leave it to you to find them.”

His rough growl vibrated against her skin and his hands went to her waist, fisting on the fabric of her dress. She feared he might rip it, then decided she didn’t give a damn. “Is that a little game you like to play?”

“Sometimes.”

“What do I get if I win?”

Oh, if only he knew. “I’ll tell you if you win,” she said breathlessly.

“I think the reward might just be in the playing.”

That too. For his delectable mouth and big hands to explore her entire body . . . she shivered with the promise of it.

When his grip relaxed at last, his hands slid up her torso, thumbs brushing just at the outer curves of her breasts. All the while he rained worshipful kisses over her shoulders, her neck, her jaw, while she allowed her hands to roam the breadth of his back and tried not to squirm too wantonly against the rough press of his jeans between her thighs. When he finally touched her he was going to find her embarrassingly wet, but thinking about it only made her wetter, made her throb harder, made her squirm more.

His hands returned to her waist, gathering the fabric of her dress. Without her straps to hold it in place, the bodice crept downward. He watched its progression as her breath heaved, his eyes full of naked need, hunger. Greed. She licked her lips as the ruched edge reached the top of her areola, barely revealing its dusky rose hue before his mouth was there and the protection of her dress was completely gone. “I stand corrected,” he murmured against her, then her nipple was in his wet, sucking mouth, and she cried out, clutching his head to her.

When he found sexy things, he liked to kiss them. Good to know. As he leaned into her, she let her legs ride higher on his waist, feeling her dress slip farther up her thighs. Barred only by the thinness of her panties, the scent of her own arousal bloomed around them. It must have gone to his head; he cursed and ground his hips into hers, moving his mouth to give her other nipple the same thorough treatment as the first. His tongue swirled tantalizing patterns, his mouth sucked her to an aching peak, his teeth gave tiny nips that made her whimper. She had always considered herself smallish in the boob department, but they had never felt so heavy and feverish, sending arcs of pleasure like gentle lightning between her legs where she clenched on emptiness she was near begging for him to fill.

And at last, just as she was beginning to ponder if orgasm from nipple stimulation alone was a possibility for her, his mouth came back to hers. “Didn’t find it,” he said. “Need to keep looking.”

She couldn’t gather her wits enough to reply, only giving him a helpless nod.

With her arms and legs wound tight around him, her naked chest held tight against him, he strode through the dimly lit house into the darkness of a bedroom. She tipped dizzily and her back sank into a pillow-top mattress covered with a thick, soft comforter. He moved away, and after a moment soft light filled the room from a lamp in one corner. Enough to see, dim enough to conceal. Her gaze never left him as he reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off, then crawled up the bed toward her. Savannah’s hands immediately flew to his body, desperate to feel the heat and smoothness of his skin, trace the dips and lines of his muscles. Never, ever had she been with someone built like him. She wanted to know every inch of him before the night was over.