End of Story(44)

“Yeah?”

“What are you thinking about?”

He neither blinked nor looked away. “I know what I want to say to you now.”

“Okay.” I closed the fridge door and tried not to be nervous. Which didn’t work since I was soon tugging on my ponytail. “I’m listening.”

“If you’re using anyone for sex, it’s going to be me.”

It took me a moment to find my voice. “Huh.”

Nothing from him.

“There’s, um, a lot to unpack there,” I said. “And we will. I just feel like right now we need to focus on more-immediate things.”

“Such as?”

I stepped closer. The ever-careful distance between us served nothing at all. My hands skimmed up his arms and over his shoulders, meeting at last behind his neck. Then I rose up on tippy-toes and pressed my mouth to his. A sweet kiss. A question needing an answer. And immediately his mouth opened and he gave. Hands grabbed my hips, holding me against his solid body. I’d have climbed the man if I could. My desire to be as close to him as possible was absolute. What he did to me was more than evidenced by the state of my panties. And the thrill of feeling him harden against my stomach as we devoured each other. I’d never felt anything like it.

Then he performed the ultimate swoon move. Hoisting me up with both hands beneath my ass, the man lifted me right off the floor. I wrapped my legs around him tight, my breasts smooshed against his chest. Our faces were so close together. The tip of his nose just a hairsbreadth from mine. Being plastered all up against him with his hands on my ass was most definitely my natural habitat. Outside the storm raged, thunder crashing while the wind howled.

When we broke apart, my heart was hammering, my breath coming fast. I’d much rather we were making out, but that thing he’d said needed addressing. “Hey,” I whispered, taking a breath. “I can go without sex, Lars. That’s not what this is about.”

A line appeared between his brows, but he said nothing. The man sure could say a lot with silence.

“If it was just sex I wanted, I could have gotten it from Austin, or just about anywhere.”

He actually growled, his chest rumbling against me. Holy shit.

Staring into his eyes, I smiled. “It’s about you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He nodded contemplatively and gave me a long look. “Okay, Susie.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

I’ve never been accused of being deep. My talents consisted of having great style and saying weird shit. If I’d hurt him, however, then I had to make it better. It was easy to mistake Lars as a bad-tempered beast. He frowned like it was his life calling. But there was so much more to the man.

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Okay?”

In answer, he groped at my ass.

“We also need to address your use of the word using. Because if the lusting isn’t mutual—”

He gave me a half smile and kissed me. Guess that answered that.

Everything was perfect with his arms around me and his tongue in my mouth. My hands were in his hair and my legs around him tight. The ridge of his hard-on was right there and grinding against him was so good. Like a fever building. And we were moving. He brushed against the wall heading out of the kitchen, bumped into the entryway between the dining and living rooms, and kicked open my bedroom door. That’s when my back met the mattress.

How he gazed down at me with such lust in his eyes. To be the single point of focus of all that was breathtaking. His fingers traced a path over the curve of my hip and down the length of my thigh. He didn’t stop until he reached my sneaker, which he unlaced and tossed into the corner. As soon as that was done, he started in on the other. If my feet were sweaty and smelly I would die. But Lars had other things on his mind. Because he stuck his hands up my skirt and robbed me of my underwear in one smooth move. And I do mean robbed. He dangled my black cotton thong from a finger before slipping it into his back pocket.

“I’m not going to see that again, am I?”

“How do I get you out of that dress?” he asked in a voice as rough as the weather.

“There’s a zip down the side that loosens the bodice and then you lift the skirt and sort of maneuver the whole thing up over my head.”

He grunted. “Too complicated.”

“I’m appalled that a man of your age and experience would be defeated by a frock.”

But Lars had no time for my nonsense. He was far too busy burying his head beneath my skirt. With his hands on my thighs, holding them open, he got straight to business. Dragging the flat of his tongue up through my folds and finishing with a flourish. Each and every nerve in my clitoris was wide the fuck awake.

“Oh, God,” I groaned.

The newly crowned deity under my dress didn’t say a word. He just continued on with his ministrations. Sucking on my labia, first the left and then the right. Then he dragged his tongue through me again, this time with a zigzag motion that made my toes curl. Next his thumbs held me open as he French kissed my sex. All the while there was the occasional slight scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs turning me into gooseflesh. He went down on me with the same skill and single-mindedness that he did everything else. And it was wonderful.