DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(36)

I got up and followed her, careful to leave my smartphone on the bedside table.

I pushed open the bathroom door and found her leaning against the sink. She’d taken off the light shirt and panties that she’d been wearing, and she was leaning there, her ankles crossed and her arms arranged so that they covered her breasts as her hands rested over her pubic mound. It was the most erotic sight I think I’d ever set my eyes on.

“Was there something in particular you wanted?” I asked, as I leaned against the doorframe, trying to adopt a casual stance when my heart was pounding and my body absolutely ached to touch her.

Her eyes came up slowly, raking over my body like fingernails scraping my flesh.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said softly. “Your hands on my hips. Your mouth on mine. Your cock—”

“That’s pretty specific,” I said, pushing away from the doorway.

“Well, you know what they say. A woman who knows what she wants…”

“They say that?”

“Someone does.”

I approached her, lifting a piece of deep, auburn hair and pushing it behind her ear. I let my fingers hesitate on her jaw, sliding slowly down to her bottom lip.

“I think you’re just a tease.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

“Because you have this way of only allowing me to see what you want me to.”

“And that makes me a tease?”

“It does.”

“I think it’s more about keeping a few secrets. Once you know everything, life becomes quite boring, doesn’t it? And you wouldn’t want life to be boring.”

Oh, hell!

I thought I might have a stroke. So f*cking beautiful! The way she was looking at me, the way she made my heart pound as if I’d just run an entire obstacle course at boot camp. I wanted her. It was simple and primal. It was almost unbearable.

I ran the back of my fingers slowly along the outside of her arm, watching as it slid over her upper arm, her elbow, sliding down along her slightly out turned wrist. And then I slid my finger inside the palm of her hand, my fingertip caressing her hand while my nail brushed the moistness of her silky lips.

“I don’t think knowing everything is all that boring,” I said, as I moved closer to her, my lips just brushing the outer lobe of her ear.

“Maybe boring wasn’t the right word,” she said on a long sigh.

I moved my finger around, rotated it until she gave a little gasp and I knew I had it in just the right place. She turned her head as I brushed my lips against her upper jaw, her lips puckered as she reached for me. But if she was going to deny me, I wasn’t going to simply give her what she wanted. She’d have to work for it.

I moved closer to her, working another finger between her hand and her cunt. She pressed her lips to my throat, her tongue touching me so lightly, so gently, that it gave birth to a groan that got stuck in my throat as I ran my own tongue along the outer edge of her earlobe. I worked my fingers tighter against her, sliding a fingertip over the swollen bud of her clit. She moaned against my throat, the vibration rushing through my flesh to ignite my nerve endings.

“You taste so good,” she whispered.

“I want to taste you,” I said, pressing that finger tighter against her clit so that she would know exactly what I meant.

She made a funny little sound as I kissed her throat, my lips slipping down to her arm, to follow the same path my fingers had followed moments before. I pulled my fingers away and her eyes were bright, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as I slowly slid to my knees.

“Donovan,” she whispered, the last syllable coming out like a moan, as I gently urged her knees apart.

I kissed her thigh, tugging a little flesh between my teeth before moving on to the next space. That’s how I moved up her leg, a little bit at a time, loving the little sounds that escaped her lips as I came closer and closer to where her hands were still pressed against that place I so desperately wanted to touch. I felt her tense, as I reached the sweet dip between her leg and her beautiful cunt. But then I turned and began again just above her other knee, enjoying every sweet inch of her thigh.

She lifted her foot and rested it on my shoulder as I continued my exploration. I don’t know how I had the self-control to take so much time, but I did, and I was loving every second of it. How long had I dreamed of being here, of being back in the arms of the only girl who’d ever meant anything to me? How long had I imagined her face? How long had I dreamed of her, of this distant chance of being back with her? How many conflicts had it gotten me through, thinking of the possibility of this moment? I wasn’t about to rush it.

I ran my hand over the back of both her hands as I reached the center again. I looked up at her and found her watching me, a dark blush staining her cheeks.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” I said.

“Do you remember the first time you called me baby?”

I pressed my hand to her inner thigh, urging her hips to open a little wider.

“I remember.”

Of course I remembered. It was the first time she met me under the bleachers of our high school gym, the first time she let me slide my hand under her cheerleading skirt.

She leaned back against the mirror, resting the heel of her foot on the edge of the counter while the other slid from my shoulder and came to a rest in the center of my back. And then, so slowly that it felt like it took a millennium to move, she removed her hands.