Neighbors with Benefits (Anderson Brothers, #2)(39)

Feet on the floor, he bounced once and the bed creaked, which caused her to start laughing all over again. He loved her laugh. It made him feel free and unburdened. Then he bounced and it creaked again, and she snorted, which was even more adorable than the laugh. Soon, they were both bouncing and moaning, and laughing until they were breathless.

He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere between the snort and her last moan, they had drifted together, bodies touching from knee to shoulder as they sat side-by-side, no longer bouncing. The images of them tangled up in the bed, moaning for real had taken over his brain, and he slid his hand over the smooth, warm skin of her knee, and then up her thigh, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up as his fingers brushed gray silk.

Her head fell back and she sighed, which was possibly the sexiest sound he’d ever heard.

Running his fingers over the silk, it was obvious that acting turned on had actually turned her on—as it had him. “You’re wet.”

“Yes.”

Pleased she hadn’t pushed him away, he slid his fingers under the panties and circled her in just the right spot, then cut off her gasp with a kiss.

Wet, warm, and responsive, Mia opened her legs and her mouth to him, giving as she took, with raw honesty, coaxing him right up to the edge of his control. He wanted to rip his clothes off and bury himself deep inside her while she made these same throaty moans, but this wasn’t about him. Never had he wanted to please a woman as much as he did Mia. He thought of her friends, especially that prick Jason. She deserved better. She should be honored and pampered, which is exactly what he planned to do.

He pushed her back onto the bed and stretched out next to her, slipping a finger deep inside her slick warmth, then pulled away from the kiss to watch the reaction on her expressive face as a second finger joined the first. She made a sound in the back of her throat, and he felt like he had the first time he’d touched a woman all those years ago: amazed, enthralled, and completely alive. Nothing routine or planned, his actions and her reactions were spontaneous and real. Heart racing, he felt dizzy, like he’d had one drink too many, but at the same time, his thoughts and desires were crystal clear. The only thing in his life recently that had brought him intense pleasure was closing a large deal, and as he watched her respond to his touch with unguarded heat, he realized that closing a deal didn’t even come close.

To this. To her.

To this moment.

He increased the tempo with his fingers and sat up so he could watch as she arched into his touch. Eyes shut, she rolled her head from side to side, completely lost in pleasure as he continued to work his fingers in and out. He wanted more, but not for himself—for her. He couldn’t wait any longer to taste her. Shifting slightly, he leaned over and stroked her with his tongue, and she moaned, so he did it again, this time circling her hardened nub with his tongue until she cried out. She was close, very close, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her shatter apart around his fingers, and then again around his cock.

“Michael,” she whispered, and he increased his rhythm.

“Michael,” she said again. This time, desperation tinged her voice.

He placed his mouth over her, his tongue and fingers still working, as her body tensed like a coil being wound. He almost came himself when she began to spasm around his fingers, breath coming in raspy gasps until she cried out, “Yes!”

She was perfect. Slick and heated, her body still trembling with aftershocks. And he was equally aroused. “I need you, Mia. Need to be inside you now.”

Her eyes flew open, and a crease furrowed her brow. “Wait.” She’d said it so quietly, he almost wasn’t sure she’d said it at all. Then her body stilled. No more arching to meet his touch. No more soft sounds.

“Mia.” Her name meant “mine” and it was all he could come up with at the moment. Mine. And he hers, if she’d let him be.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I…”

But she wouldn’t let him. His chest constricted painfully as he realized she was going to push him away, even though she didn’t really want to.

“I should’ve had better self control,” she said, body still. “I’m so sorry.”

She’d built her own cage of self-denial and wouldn’t allow herself to open the door to which she had the only key: confidence and trust in herself.

He couldn’t bring himself to remove his fingers from her body as he put his forehead to hers, both of them still breathing hard. “Why?”

A small shudder shot through her—residual effects, or maybe her body reacting to his continued presence and begging him to continue.

“French fries,” she said.

“I’m not bad for you, Mia.”

“You are. You will be.”

“No. I’m not the problem.” He rolled his thumb over the front of her and slid his fingers out, then in again. She tightened around him and her back arched, so he did it again. “Does that feel good?”

“You know it does.”

“Let me make love to you, Mia.”

“Wait.”

He stilled and met her eyes. Her pupils had pushed the irises out to a thin cinnamon band around the edge. She wanted him, it was obvious, and still denied herself. “Wait for what? For me to tell you I won’t hurt you; or even better, that I’m your friend? I could say all kinds of things, Mia, but you wouldn’t believe me because you’re programmed to self-destruct.”