Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(57)

He drew slow circles around my clit before sliding the tip of a finger back and forth through me. The man slowly played with me. Pure, exquisite torture.

“Yeah,” he said. “I really do.”

“You’re serious about this? Us?”

“I am.” Still not breaking eye contact, he slid a finger into me. “You’re very wet.”

“Yeah. You know, it’s kind of hard to focus on relationship talk when you’re fingering me.”

“We can talk all you want later. Promise.”

“’kay.” I made a pitiful noise in my throat, my muscles tightening on his thick digit. My own hands were claws, digging into his rock-hard, jean-clad thighs.

“I mean, you got hot for me in Vegas. But this … Sweetheart, Christ, this is f*cking awesome.”

“I masturbate. A lot.”

“Not anymore,” he rumbled. “Looking after you is my job. Trust me, Lizzy. I won’t let you down again.”

The finger inside me sought a sweet spot and proceeded to massage it with expert ease. Just that simply, he turned me inside out. It was a mercy my nipples didn’t poke holes through the fabric of my shirt. They sure as hell felt hard enough. My shoulders pushed back against his solid chest as the side of his thumb brushed back and forth across my clit. Lightning and shooting stars and all of the good stuff. The whole world went to white.

I throttled the scream in my throat. Or at least part of it. Oh boy and damn. I lay panting in his lap, my skin oversensitized, sweat beading on my forehead and back. How perfect.

He gently cupped my * with his hand. “I can still feel you throbbing.”

I stretched and yawned, slowly coming back down to earth. All of the happy was mine.

“You really needed that.”

“Yeah.” I turned, cuddling against his chest. If I stayed sort of on my side, the bump was happy enough. And what a nice, big, comfortable man he was. Especially helpful when it came to orgasms too. His fingers were far superior to my own, I had to say.

“You going to sleep on me now?” he asked, incredulous.

I nodded, closing my eyes. Damn he smelled good. They should bottle his sweat. I’d buy it in bulk. Meanwhile his hard-on continued to press into my hip. Bad luck, bud. I was down and out for the count. No could do.

“You wanted to go slow,” I said.

Disgruntled rumbling came from beneath me.

“You really want to be my boyfriend?” I asked, half opening one eye.

A hand smoothed down the fabric of my skirt and he shuffled us down the bed a little, getting comfortable.

“Boyfriend? Huh.” His rough, deep voice rolled through me, lulling me further toward sleep. “Never been anyone’s boyfriend before.”

“No?”

“No.”

Arms encircled me, the bristle of his beard brushing against my forehead as he settled back against the cushions.

“Your boyfriend,” he mused.

“It’s a big decision. You should take your time, think about it. Let me know when you’re ready to talk about it again.”

His forehead creased. “You sure are playing it cool.”

And about time, frankly. Lord knows, chasing after the man hadn’t gotten me anywhere. A girl could only beat her brains against a brick wall for so long before it was time to rethink things.

I shrugged and slid my hand up his side, getting closer. His skin was so smooth, his smattering of chest hair delightful to the touch. Everything about him was delightful really. In all likelihood, even his toenails would thrill me. Didn’t mean I’d be making it too easy on him.

“Liz?”

“Hmm?”

“This boyfriend position … it come with perks?”

“Maybe.”

“Do I get to sleep with you and shower with you?”

“Yes.”

He made a happy noise. “What about touching? Do I get to feel you up when I like?”

“Within reason.”

“Got to say, sweetheart, your body was always gorgeous. But it’s seriously off-the-f*cking-charts beautiful right now.”

“Really?” I asked, raising my head to give him a curious look. “Mostly I just feel leaky and lumpy.”

A large hand cupped an ass cheek, rubbing. “Fuck no. You’re all soft curves and you’re carrying my baby. Never thought that’d be a big turn-on—never thought about it at all. But, sweetheart, it is.”

“Huh.”

“What else is involved in this boyfriend shit?” he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and into my ear.

“‘This boyfriend shit’? Seriously?”

“Sorry. You know what I mean.” He gave me a squeeze. “What else? C’mon.”

“All right. Let me think.” I trailed my fingers through his beard, sliding them back and forth through the soft whiskers. I could lie on him all night, happily, listening to his heart beating strong and steady within his chest. Feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his ribs with each breath. To lie there and know that this special man was alive and chose to be with me, here, right now. That sounded just like heaven.

“You know, I’m really not sure myself,” I said in a quiet voice. “I’ve never had an official boyfriend before. But we have to be there for each other, and we have to talk. I don’t see how it could work any other way.”