Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)(35)

“Your turn, handsome.”

That startled a chuckle out of me, so I obliged her and jerked my sweater up over my head by the back of the neck. I liked the way she looked at me, like she saw more than what was on the outside. Her gaze skimmed over my chest, across my abs, and then landed back on my face. She reached out a finger and traced over the few scars my last ride with Novak’s boys had left. The worst of the damage had been to my leg. It was a gnarly mess of scar tissue and sewed-back-together flesh. If she didn’t like the little imperfections on top, what was below that was going to send her running for the hills when she caught sight of it.

I used the edge of my knuckle to trace over the pale crest of each of her breasts where they peeked out over the top of her lacy bra. Her heartbeat was erratic and she inhaled sharply at the touch. I continued the journey around her side to the back clasp. She leaned forward so I could unhook the fasteners and set her free. She wiggled the straps down her arms and leaned forward so that her now-naked breasts were pressed against my own naked chest. She felt so good, like this was where she was supposed to be.

I skimmed my hands down the flawless curve of her spine and leaned in close so I could whisper in her ear.

“Gonna have to lose more clothes than that if I’m gonna take care of you, Bry.”

I ran the tip of my tongue along the shell of her ear and it made her legs clamp around the outside of my thighs.

“Okay.” It was barely a whisper and it made my dick so hard that it hurt.

I let her pull away far enough to get the top of her jeans unbuttoned, helped her kick off her shoes, and somehow managed to get her all the rest of the way naked without having to move from my really perfect location caught between her long legs and the very heart of her desire. There wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t pretty and perfect. She was the kind of girl a guy could fantasize about in a million and one different ways and never have to repeat himself. There was just something about all that cool blond hair and endless amounts of silky pale skin that gave her a dreamlike quality not a lot of girls possessed. She was enough to get a guy off just by looking at her.

I gripped her hips and pulled her to the very edge of the couch. I kissed her hard, tasted the way she was so ready to do this with me. I felt it in the way her hands twined in my hair and gave it a hard tug. She wasn’t shy and that was beyond awesome. I moved down to kiss the side of her neck, licked at her pulse jumping there. I skimmed my hands up along her rib cage and stopped to brush each thumb along the underneath swell of her breasts. I felt her nipples go diamond hard where they were pressing against me. I kissed her collarbone, fought the urge to suck on it, to mark her up with my mouth. She was fair, and marring that pristine landscape with something so barbaric seemed like it should be a crime. I knew that I was going to do it anyway.

I had to give her a little nudge back in order to make enough space between us to get my mouth around the begging tip of her breast. When I did, she gasped and pulled at my hair. I swirled the little pebble around and around until I had her panting, and I could feel her getting wet against me. Her thighs were shaking and her chest was rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. I used my teeth, was a little rougher on the other side and not at all surprised when she seemed to like that even more. She was pulling me closer and mumbling my name. Her hips also lifted involuntarily off the worn fabric of the couch, which totally worked to my advantage. I slid my hands under each side of her ass and lifted her up a little as I pulled back and grinned at her.

“Showtime.”

Her eyes got even bigger, if that was possible, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, which nearly had my cock coming out of my pants on its own.

I pressed her legs a little farther apart, bent down lower so I could lick around her belly button, kissed her below that on her quivering stomach, and traced the curve of her leg where it led to my intended target. I heard her whimper and could literally feel the way she heated up from the inside out as I got closer and closer to the parts of her that were weeping for me. She was slight enough that I could lift her up to my waiting mouth, my hands holding her still as I used the tip of my tongue to work through her damp flesh. She tasted like she looked, expensive and divine, silky and smooth, and this was the only part of her that didn’t seem to have a perpetual chill. All along the edge of my probing tongue she rippled in pleasure, and her fingernails gripped hard at the sides of my head.

“Race . . .” My name was a broken plea, asking for more or asking me to stop, I didn’t care which, because I was getting drunk on her taste alone and I hadn’t even really started yet. I pulled her up higher, freed a hand from underneath her so that I could put it to better use. I spread her farther apart, breathed her in, and caught the hard nub of her clit between my teeth and gave it a tug. I wasn’t exactly gentle and she didn’t seem to mind. She arched her entire back up off the couch and squeezed my head so hard between her legs it made me chuckle. Never had I been caught in a sexier trap.

I swirled the pulsing bud around and around with my tongue, used my fingers to play with her, glided them along her inner walls that were flexing and jumping at the barest touch. I lapped at her, sucked on her, used my hand that was holding her up to my face to squeeze her backside, and felt her rising, felt the way her insides were chasing down all the pleasure I was throwing at her. I had never been with a girl who was so honestly responsive. She muttered her approval, said my name when my questing fingers hit her in just the right spot, and she didn’t bother to hide or be embarrassed by the physical signs I was drawing out of her body. She was all kinds of liquid and hot and it was enough to have me wondering if I could finish this without making a fool of myself in the process. I couldn’t ever remember having an erection so hard, having lust riding me so high that it physically hurt.