All the Way (Hot Jocks #2)(26)

Inhaling deeply, I release a slow breath. Justin’s words from our conversation at the bar a few nights ago ring through my head.

Don’t fuck this up, Parrish.

Moving closer on the couch, Becca nestles her tempting body against my broad one, and places one palm on my chest.

Then she does something totally unexpected. She kisses my neck.

I almost growl at how good her warm lips feel pressing against my skin while her fingertips trace up and down my chest.

“What are you doing? I just told you this was a bad idea.”

“I heard you,” she says, her fingertips moving teasingly along.

“Becca?” Her name on my lips comes out low and deep.

“I don’t care. I trust you,” she says, her fingertips not leaving my skin.

Her words untangle something inside me, and everything clicks into place at once. Using two fingers beneath her chin, I tilt her mouth up to mine, and I can feel her smiling right before I capture her lips in a tender kiss.

“You one hundred percent sure about this, angel?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs against my lips. “I’m a thousand million percent sure. I want this, Owen. Please.”

It’s all the go-ahead I need.

Cupping the back of her neck, I find an angle that works and deepen our kiss. Her lips part on a shaky sigh, and then her tongue is making warm, greedy passes against mine.

Damn. The sensation goes straight to my balls with a sudden ache.

Her hands wander my chest, and if this were any other scenario, my own hands would be exploring every inch of her perfect curves. Instead, I keep one hand on her jaw and the other in my lap.

Let her make the first move.

I kiss her in a way that’s meant to be slow and exploratory, and then her fingers twist into my shirt. When she makes a noise in the back of her throat, all my resolve to go slow vanishes.

Her mouth is so soft, and she tastes so sweet, and Christ, why is she making those needy, whimpering sighs?

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” I murmur into our kiss. “Say the word and we stop. You’re in control.”

Without answering, Becca suddenly stands, grabs my hands, and tugs me up with her. Then she pulls me along behind her toward her bedroom. We collapse together into the center of her bed, which is dressed in white fluffy linens that smell like lavender, laundry soap, and Becca.

With trembling fingers, she removes her T-shirt, and damn, the sight of her in a lacy, nude-colored bra and jeans is so sexy.

Her figure is perfect, curvy enough that I’d never have to be afraid of hurting her. I could spank and nibble and suck to my heart’s content.

My blood starts to heat—slowly at first, like one of those microwave burritos, before turning scalding hot all at once. I can’t deny it anymore. Becca does it for me. Big freaking time. That lush pink mouth, all that smooth creamy skin, a tangle of long hair, a rosy blush on her cheeks . . . she’s aroused. And it’s all for me.

“That’s not very polite, you know?” she says, interrupting my indecent thoughts.

“What isn’t?”

“Staring at me the way you are.”

A lazy smile uncurls on my lips. “It’s hard not to. You look so damn good.”

When I span my hands along her rib cage, she arches into my touch, and I unhook her bra before tossing it over the side of the bed. “If I do anything you don’t like . . .”

She nods. “I’ll tell you to stop.”

As I kiss and suck each tight nipple into my mouth, Becca’s movements grow increasingly aroused. She grinds her pelvis against my thigh, and her hands squeeze my ass. Our tongues touch, and she trembles in my arms.

Working open the button on her jeans, I draw them and her tiny panties down her smooth legs, depositing them on the floor beside the bed.

“So pretty,” I whisper, leaning over her to place soft kisses against her stomach, her breastbone, her neck, her lips.

Becca relaxes into the pillows, letting me kiss and caress her. As we lie next to each other with our legs tangled, she parts her knees, letting her thighs drop open, and my hand skims down her belly.

She’s bare, and so soft and wet. Fuck. A hot shudder pulses through me as I touch her petal-soft core, running my thumb along her clit.

“Ahh . . .” She moans a breathy little sound—more like she’s gasping for breath than actually moaning.

“That’s it. Let me make you feel good,” I murmur, kissing and biting her neck.

“You do. You are,” she says softly, her hips twitching.

With deep, sweet kisses to her lips and her breasts, I massage her pussy, slowly, methodically working her toward her release while Becca moans and writhes and clutches me like her life depends on it. It’s the sexiest thing ever.

I could stay here pleasuring her all day, but after a little while, Becca pulls back and lets out a long, shaky exhale, her posture tensing.

“You okay?”

Her eyes are blazing with determination, but her mouth is pressed into a tight line. “It’s not working. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s—”

“Hey. Shhh.” I quiet her with a kiss. “Do I look bored? Or upset?”

She swallows and shakes her head as a look of defeat crosses over her features. “You’ve been great. I think I’m just too in my own head or something.”