Guilty Needs(28)

At the same time, he hooked his thumb inside the leg of her panties and drew it away from her sex. As he pushed his tongue into her mouth, he slid two fingers inside her *. Hot, molten satin—she was tight, fiery and sweetly wet. He withdrew his fingers, and as he stroked back, he twisted his wrist, screwing his fingers in and out. She moaned into his mouth, her back arching.

She went tight around him—too tight. Each successive touch made her burn hotter around him, had her silken sheath clenching tighter and tighter. Before Colby even realized how close she was, she came, muffling her cry against his mouth and rocking desperately against his hand.

Dragging his mouth away from hers, he swore and shifted. She must have thought he was going to pull away because she cried out and caught his wrist, holding him as she worked herself against his hand.

“Shh…it’s okay,” he muttered against her trembling mouth. Then he disentangled them, reluctantly withdrawing his fingers. He pulled her off the swing, all too conscious of how exposed they were, but he couldn’t have found the strength to pull away if he had to, not even just to take her into the house.

Instead, he settled on the wooden-plank floor, with his back against the high railing. The railing and the hedge between them and the street should—hopefully—block them from view.

He sat with her between his thighs, her back pressed to his chest, her body still trembling, still tight with need.

She whimpered as he stroked his hand down the center of her body. When he cupped her in his hand, she shuddered and a rush of wet heat met him as he parted her flesh and sank his fingers back inside her.

A neat patch of black curls shielded her * and through the curls, he could see the swollen, erect bud of her clit. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he stared down at her body, watched the way his hands looked on her as he stroked her clit, as he sank his fingers deep inside her *.

Like a f*cking fantasy.

That was how it looked.

His mouth watered with the need to push her to the ground and lie between her thighs and lap at her dew-slicked *, suck on her clit until she erupted and then crawl up her body and bury his cock inside her.

Instead, he stayed where he was, watching as he teased, stroked and caressed. She whimpered, mewled and moaned his name, rocking against his hand, reaching up and back, twining one arm around his neck.

This time, when he felt the orgasm moving on her, he pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed. Slow, careful strokes that quickly became frenzied as she bucked against him with some sort of desperate hunger.

She climaxed with a harsh, broken moan before going limp in his arms.

He felt it when the languor faded. Although he was still burning from his own needs, all he wanted to do was sit there and hold her. But she tore away from him, lurched to her feet and stumbled away. Her hands shook as she smoothed her skirt down and her pretty caramel-colored skin was a deep shade of dusky pink.

She wouldn’t look at him.

But for some reason, Colby didn’t need her to. He got to his feet and moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her when she would have shrugged him away. Her body was tense in his arms, stiff and unyielding. In that moment, though, she could have surrounded herself with slobbering pit bulls and he wouldn’t have been fooled.

She did want him.

A hell of a lot.

Him. Maybe even as intensely as he wanted her.

“Have dinner with me.”

She glanced up over her shoulder at him and then away. “Why?”

“Because it seems like I ought to buy you a meal before I talk you out of your clothes?” he teased, trying to keep it light.

“Why do you want to talk me out of anything?”

He let go of her arms, but before she could slip away, he snagged her waist, working one arm around her and holding her steady as he rocked his cock against the soft, plump curve of her ass. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. And because I want to see you smiling at me when I wake up in the morning.” He stroked his other hand up her side and cupped her breast. “Have dinner with me.”

“And then what? A quick f*ck and then we go back to being friends?”

He whirled her around in his arms and caught her face in his hands. “It won’t be quick…well, maybe the first time. But not the second. Not the third. And you and I both know we’ve gone past being just friends. I don’t know how exactly that happened, but it has happened. The question is—where do we go from here?” He pressed his mouth to hers but didn’t kiss her. He whispered, “I spent the last year running. I’m tired of it. Aren’t you?”

She sighed shakily. “Colby, you sure this is a good idea?”

With a soft laugh, he murmured, “Hell if I know. I just know it feels right. So what’s your answer?”

She licked her lips. He felt the brush of her tongue against his own mouth and growled, wanting to suck it in and bite down—just a little—until he felt her shudder against him. Instead, he lifted his head and stared down at her. “Well?”

Her nod was hesitant. Her voice soft. “Dinner.”

But her eyes were hotter than molten steel and Colby knew he could get lost in them—would get lost in them—if he wasn’t careful.

Slowly, he let her go. Catching her hand, he lifted it to his lips and brushed a kiss to the back of it. “Eight o’clock.”