Shameless(42)

But then she lets out a breathy moan. “God, so good.”

My mind instantly pictures her moaning these words as I pound into her, which puts my cock on full alert.

I pause, like I’ve stepped on some kind of landmine, not sure which motion will set off the bomb.

I’m already in trouble because her head dips back into my lap. Her eyes are closed, and I’m altogether enchanted by her slender neck and shoulders. By her thick hair that smells so good, I can’t think straight. By her mouth that screams to be kissed. And by the neckline in her t-shirt that pulls low, displaying the crests of her breasts.

Without thinking, I tangle my fingers in her hair and massage her scalp.

“Holy crap,” she whispers. “That’s amazing.”

Slowly, I loosen her hair and let my fingers drift in and out of the silky soft tendrils. She looks like a dreamy mirage, and I half wonder if I’m asleep and I’m going to wake up and find myself alone in Boston.

Her eyes flutter open, and she stares up at me. My hand cradles her cheek. I don’t remember moving my hand to her face, but there it is. Her mouth parts on a sigh, and then she leans, just the slightest bit, into my hand.

“You’re beautiful, Kat,” I rasp.

She blinks back at me, sweet and so f*cking sexy, everything in me aches.

Those big amber eyes are dilated and dark, and her chest rises and falls with quick breaths.

My hand drifts down her neck where her skin is soft, so soft and smooth and pale. Like a canvas.

For the first time in I don’t know how long, I long to draw something, anything. And I really want to draw it on her.

I drag one finger slowly back and forth along the slope of her neck and shoulder, envisioning the lines I’d paint on her skin. The rich colors I’d blend. The gentle touch I’d use.

She shivers, and with her back arched this way, I can see her nipples poking through her top. On a sigh, her eyes close, but her tongue darts out to lick those full lips. Everything in me tightens as I resist the urge to drag her whole body on to my lap.

Those lips glisten in the low light, and when my fingers drag along her cheek, they part more. My heart is pounding in my chest. Fuck, I want this girl.

When she opens her eyes again, I slide my thumb against her bottom lip. It’s slick and pouty, and I’m dying for a taste. She’s watching me, her expression intense. Is it my imagination or did she just arch her back more?

Suddenly, her mouth opens, and she sucks my thumb before biting the pad gently.

I stare, a little dumbstruck by my finger that’s caught between her teeth. But it’s the wet slide of her tongue across my skin that sets me in motion.

“Get up here.”

I’m not sure if I yank her up or if she moves on her own accord because my hands are on her and she’s crawling into my lap.

The moment our mouths crash into each other, the only thing I can think is, Thank f*cking God.





27





Katherine





He tastes like hot chocolate. Sweet. Rich. Addicting.

My hands are on his muscular shoulders. I’m straddling his thighs, and he has one big hand on my hip and one in my hair as he covers my mouth with his. He’s so dang hot, I might combust.

But when that hand on my hip tightens and scoots me closer until our hips align, I’m sure I’m about to die because he feels so good. And heaven help me, he’s huge.

Brady pauses to look up at me. My hair cascades around us, casting a shadow over him. I want to freeze-frame this moment. Softly, he licks my bottom lip like he’s tasting me, and I groan and grind down on him.

That gets me a low grunt, which makes me smile and do it again. When I angle my mouth over his, that hand grips my hair to hold me still, making my heart beat faster.

I pant against his lips, frozen. Touch me. God, touch me.

As though he can hear my pleas, his hand slides up my side as he leans in to nip my neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

I almost want to laugh. Hell yes, this is okay. But I don’t say anything. I just strip off my shirt, which leaves me in a sheer, black lacy bra.

Yes, I wore it for him. When he invited me to watch a movie, I couldn’t help but hope something would happen. I would’ve been mortified if we had gotten horizontal and I was wearing plain old cotton. Hello, not sexy. Comfortable, yes. Seductive, no.

The black lace was a good choice because he’s riveted to my breasts, so I know he can see how hard my nipples are through the thin lace. In an instant, his mouth descends on one, and the second his tongue lashes out through the fabric, my hands tangle in his hair to hold him to me.

More. I want more.

I want him hard and thick and pulsing between my thighs. I want to ride him until he shouts my name. I want him to remember this, me, when he’s back in Boston.

The fact that he’s leaving doesn’t even give me pause. Yes, it’ll hurt like hell when he’s gone. In fact, I have a sinking suspicion it’ll break my heart because I can’t dance this close to the fire and not get burned. And he’s all flame, a raging inferno that makes my skin heat and heart race.

But I can’t walk away. Even though I probably should.

That sinful mouth reaches my other aching nipple, but this time, he bites gently, just a little, sending a zap straight to my core.