Bedding the Wrong Brother(39)

She wondered if he'd turned on the heater, or if it was just her desire causing her to flush and feel all loose and tingly inside. “Climax. Coitus. Come.”

“Wow. Who knew there were so many dirty words that started with C?”

Despite his continued efforts to sound unaffected, she could tell she was getting to him. Sweat had popped out on his upper lip, and his fingers seemed to grip the steering wheel for dear life. His knuckles whitened as she continued.

“Copulate. Cream.”

“That's not a dirty word.”

“It is if you're licking it off someone's body.”

He scowled. “Done that often, have you?”

The idea that he might be jealous had her twisting the truth just a bit. She'd watched a movie recently where whipped cream had been a prominent prop. “Just once. But it definitely showed me what I've been missing.”

He didn't respond other than to take a deep breath.

“And now for my personal favorite.” Leaning forward, she brushed his ear with her lips and breathed her next word. “Cunnilingus.”

He hissed in a breath. When she reached out to put her hand on his thigh again, his hand whipped out, grabbing her wrist. “Don't,” he croaked out, his voice guttural.

“Or what?” she whispered.

“Or we're never going to make it into the water. And I for one can use some cooling down.” He stopped the car, and she looked around. They'd reached the lake.

“Darn. I was just getting started. But I guess you're right. Guys do like dirty talk.” She dropped her gaze to his erection, which was straining against the front of his shorts. “At least you do. You sure you don't want to hear the next one?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “It feels good, doesn't it?”

She drew back, and he slowly released her. “What?”

“Knowing you can get me hard just by talking to me. Knowing that just the sound of your voice pleases me.”

“It really does, doesn't it?” she asked, a feeling of wonder making her grin.

“Rein yourself in there, Ladybug. There's only so much a guy can take before he cracks.”

“What's your cracking point?” she pouted.

“That's for me to know and—”

“—me to find out.”

He winked, then threw open his car door. “Come on. I've worked up an appetite.” Grabbing the basket with the blanket, he walked to a shaded spot by the lake. She was still reeling with satisfaction while she unpacked their food. That feeling went out the window five minutes later when Rhys stripped off his shirt. Smooth, tanned skin, defined muscles, and a rippling six-pack nearly mesmerized her.

“What do you want first?” he asked, gesturing to the spread of crusty bread, Gouda cheese, grapes, and prosciutto.

“Uh…” She shook her head. “I'm not that hungry, actually.”

“I'll be quick.” He reached for a grape. Before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand over his, stopping him. She was breathing rapidly, her heart hammering in her ears, as she met his gaze. “It's my turn, right? To do what I think will please you?”

His green eyes darkened. “What do you have in mind?”

“Would you…would you lean closer?”

Obediently, he did. She took hold of one plump grape, and lifted it. When he opened his mouth, she placed the grape on his tongue. He chewed the juicy fruit slowly, then swallowed. “Do you…do you want another one?”

“Please.”

She took another grape and fed it to him. This time, before he let her draw away, he sucked just her fingertips into his mouth. She inhaled swiftly. Bit by bit, she fed him. The grapes. The bread and cheese. By the time she wrapped a thin piece of prosciutto around her index finger and offered it to him, his breathing was as labored as hers. Taking a gentle hold of her wrist, he guided her finger into his mouth, easing the delicacy off her finger and then sucking the digit strongly.


She moaned. He moaned. After releasing her finger with a pop, he staggered to his feet.

“Rhys,” she whispered.

“You're one dangerous lady. I've got to get in the water or I'm going to be all over you.”

“So you liked me feeding you?”

“What do you think?”

She swallowed hard. “You liked it.”