Down and Dirty (Hot Jocks #5)(49)

I press my lips to his neck, tasting his skin, loving the scratchy feel of his stubble along my cheek. We’re both breathing hard, and I push my hands into his hair, turning his face to mine so I can kiss him again.

“I’m going to . . .” He groans. “Should I . . .”

I shake my head. “Inside me.”

With shaky breaths, Landon’s measured thrusts become erratic, uneven, and he curses again, pressing his face against my neck. Then I feel it . . . his warmth inside me as he makes one last low noise of pleasure.

Holy hell, that was intense.

Long before I’m ready for him to, he moves carefully off me, withdrawing slowly as he breaks our connection. I miss the heat of him immediately.

“That was . . .” Breathless, he pauses, his hair a rumpled mess from my roaming fingers. His dark eyebrows push together as he studies me. “Was it okay? For you, I mean? For me, it was fucking amazing.”

I smile at him, trailing my fingers along his defined jaw. “It was amazing for me too.”

Landon returns my smile, and my heart squeezes.

Never in a million years did I expect to be here. Yet, here we are, in this perfect moment, and I can’t deny how right it feels.

I won’t let myself think any scary thoughts about the future right now . . . I just enjoy the feel of his strong arms around me as he pulls me even closer. I nestle into the warmth of his firm chest and close my eyes, content for now to be exactly where I am.





17




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Coming Back for Seconds





Aubree



The morning sun filtering through the curtains stirs me awake.

Between dancing the night away at the reception and our private after-party back here at our villa, our beauty rest was well earned. Still, if given the option, I’d stay here in bed with Landon all day, alternating between sleep and sex. But we promised our friends we’d grab brunch with them this morning, so unfortunately that’s not an option.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I blink up at Landon, who has so graciously served as my pillow for the night. His lips are parted slightly, and soft snoring sounds vibrate through him.

With all the nervous excitement about his first time, I sort of forgot that this is also our first time sleeping together in the literal sense. Usually, I toss and turn throughout the night, battling stress dreams and waking up in a convoluted mess of wrapped-up sheets and ejected pillows. But last night, I didn’t move from my spot tucked into the crook of Landon’s arm, my cheek pressed against his firm chest.

Careful not to wake him, I peel myself out of his arms, then tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as possible. When I return, I see that my attempt to be quiet was a bust. He’s sitting upright in bed, his dark hair tousled from either sex or sleep or both, shooting me an adorable, sleepy smile.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” His voice is raspier than usual first thing in the morning, rumbling low in his chest. It’s sexy, to say the least.

“Good morning to you too. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a fucking rock.”

He stretches his arms over his head, waking up his sleepy muscles. It makes me regret turning down his past invites to spend the night with him. Watching my shirtless husband stretch and flex his muscular arms in our shared bed is more than a little bit of a turn-on.

It’s at this point that I realize that I’m standing here, totally naked, having a completely normal conversation. Even if he is my husband, it feels a little odd to be this exposed to him in a totally non-sexual situation. I wander toward my suitcase to dig out a sleep shirt and slip it over my head. When I settle onto the edge of the bed, Landon looks at me like I just committed a crime.

“What’d you do that for?”

My brows scrunch together. “What are you talking about?”

His mouth crooks up as he shakes his head in disapproval. “Why the hell did you put on a shirt when you know I’m just going to take it right back off?”

My lips part, my breath catching in my throat. Before I can formulate a response, he’s pulling me into his arms, peeling my shirt up and over my head before tossing it right back toward my suitcase.

“Much better.” He growls against my neck, his hands gripping my hips while he trails kisses down the column of my throat. He cups my breasts firmly in his hands, giving one nipple the slightest flick with his thumb, then the other.

Instantly, any leftover sleepiness is pushed out of my system, replaced instead with pure, unadulterated need.

“Shit.” I shudder against his touch as he slowly takes one nipple between his lips, teasing me. He’s good at that. Electricity jolts through me, and I buck in pleasure.

He grins up at me, his blue eyes flickering mischievously as he slowly pulls back from my breasts, bringing his attention to lower. He touches between my thighs, testing my wetness. And based on the groan of approval I get, I take it he likes what he finds.

“I want to fuck you,” he rasps out, his voice husky.

He may lack subtlety, but the rough edge to his voice makes my pulse jump. He wants me. And by the way the sheets are tented beneath him, he’s ready for me too.

I press against his shoulders, easing him back onto the bed so I can climb on top of him. “Can we try it like this?”