Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(48)

“You smell so good all the time,” he murmured against her neck.

She kissed him again, glowing with the compliment as his hands slid down to cup her butt.

“Hold on.” He scooped her up and made her gasp with surprise.

She wrapped her legs around him as he walked her into the living room, where he lowered her onto the sofa and eased down on top of her. His body was solid and heavy, and despite all the layers, she could feel the hard press of his erection between her legs.

“Sean.”

“Yeah?”

“Too many clothes.”

He muttered something against her neck and went to work wrestling her sweatshirt over her head and flinging it away. He settled back on top of her, sliding his hand under the thin fabric of her top. She loved his mouth and his hands and the masculine hardness of his body. Everything he did made her want to be closer to him, as close as she could possibly get, without a single layer between them. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin under her fingertips. She worked his flannel shirt from his jeans and slid her hand under to be rewarded with the hard texture of his muscular abs.

His fingers found her nipple again, and she pressed against him with a whimper. Her breasts weren’t big, but they were sensitive, and she wanted his mouth on them, but she didn’t want to ask. Instead she pushed him away so she could pull off her tank top, revealing a sheer pink bra that left little to the imagination. Thanks to her laundry situation, she was down to her fancy underwear.

His eyes went dark and he kissed her, cupping her breast in his hand as she felt the hot pull of his mouth. She arched against him and combed her fingers into his hair as he made her entire body start to pulse with need. He found the clasp at her back, and even the whisper-thin fabric disappeared.

“Me too,” she said, sitting up to undo the buttons of his flannel shirt. Before she could finish, he pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor, and her throat went dry as she saw his torso for the first time. She traced a finger over his sculpted pecs, but he seemed too distracted to notice as he settled over her again and dipped his head down to kiss her.

“I love your breasts.”

“Mine?”

He looked up at her from between them, that sexy half smile on his face. “You see any others here?”

“They’re small.”

“They’re fucking perfect.” He closed his mouth over her nipple, sending a jolt of lust through her that had her squirming and panting and pulling him by his hair. He knew she liked what he was doing, and he seemed to enjoy teasing her, alternating his attention from one side to the other, all the while pressing against the throbbing juncture between her legs. The combination was making her dizzy. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy it as she ran her fingers over his shoulders and savored the feel of his weight on her. His hand glided down to her waist and she felt him unbuttoning her jeans.

“Is this okay?” His gaze was dark and serious, and the tone of his voice touched her.

She nodded.

She kept her eyes locked on his and heard the rasp of her zipper. Then he moved down the sofa on his knees, unzipping her boots, one by one, and removing them from her feet, followed by her socks. Then his hands were back at her hips again and he slowly slid the jeans down her body, and that’s when the tremors started.

She couldn’t stop them—they were an involuntary response to the cool air against her skin, and the heat of his gaze, and the electrical charge between them as the moment unfolded. He stretched out beside her, tracing his finger from her lips to her sternum and down over her belly button to the last remaining scrap of fabric she wore.

She feathered her fingers through his hair, watching his eyes move over her along with his hand. His touch sent warm shivers through her, and mixed with the nerves, it was like he’d flipped a switch inside her and made her whole body start to vibrate. She wanted to tell him, but she didn’t know how to describe the feeling. Anyway, he could probably see the effect he was having on her because he was right there beside her with his thigh pressed against hers.

She looked up into his eyes and smiled.

He kissed her. It was soft at first, but then he eased onto her, and everything intensified. She stroked her hands over his back and felt his muscles ripple under her touch. She loved his body. His mouth. She loved the weight of him pressing her into the cushions and the scent of his hot skin. She hooked her leg around him, pulling him against her until it hurt. She slid her hand between them and ran her fingers over his zipper, and he pushed himself against her hand.

“Sean?” She unsnapped his jeans and dipped her fingers inside to stroke his hard length. He moaned against her neck, and she pulled her hand away. “Sean, I don’t have anything.”

He pulled back, looking dazed, and then his eyes locked on hers. “Be right back.” He kissed her and quickly got to his feet. She watched as he disappeared down the hallway, leaving her alone.

Reality swept over her. She glanced around the dim room. She was in Sean’s house. On his sofa and almost naked. She heard the faint sound of a drawer opening and closing as she waited for him, barely able to breathe. Her heart was racing out of control, and her limbs were trembling, even her hands. Was she having a panic attack? Was that even possible right now, when she was so turned on? Maybe her body was trying to tell her she was making a mistake.

Anxiety washed over her. She didn’t have to go through with this. It was late in the game to change her mind, but she knew he’d respect what she wanted.