Shameless(53)

I snicker as I nuzzle against his neck. “Hmm. Well, we can’t have that.” I mark a path down his body with kisses and licks, stopping to appreciate his deliciously cut abs that lead to the promised land.

When I press my lips to his lower stomach, I pause to stare at the wall of tattoos in front of me, wishing there was more light so I could appreciate his ink. Later. I’ll definitely have to look later.

An appreciative grunt rumbles in his chest when I rub him through his thin track pants.

I look up and pause when I realize he’s watching me, which makes me feel the urge to put on a show. Because I want this to be the best hookup of his life.

So rather than pull down his pants, I lean down and stretch the fabric taut over his erection and run my tongue slowly across his length.

His thighs tense beneath me, and I glance up in time to see him clench his jaw and groan, “Fuck, that was hot.”

I smile as I hook my thumbs in his pants and tug them down. His length surges upward and bobs between us.

Whoa, he’s hung. I mean, I knew he was packing something serious, but it’s different to be up close and personal.

That pulse starts again between my legs as I take him in my hand and squeeze. My fingers barely make it around and at the base don’t even touch.

That’s gonna hurt.

A sick part of me gets excited.

With both hands tight at his root, I lick up that vein, shuddering at the thought of having him in me. When I make it to the tip, I swipe my lips across his flared head. Once. Twice.

His big hand tangles through my hair and grips me tight, and I pause, my mouth resting at his tip. I can’t move, so I part my lips and swipe my tongue across him. I can feel him watching me as I lick slowly before running my lips across his swollen crown.

He’s the tiniest bit salty on my tongue and smells like his bath gel and clean male.

I glance up and feel a heated rush from how Brady’s eyes are lasered in on what I’m doing. As if he realizes how tightly he’s holding my hair, he lets go and presses his palm to my cheek.

I lean in, all the while, letting my mouth rub against his sensitive skin.

“Jesus Christ, Katherine,” he grunts as he juts his hips forward slightly.

My breath is a faint flutter in my chest to see him this turned on. And I want to feed the fire. So I whisper against his cock, “Go ahead. Pull my hair,” just before I take him in my mouth.

Those fingers tangle in my tresses again, but he doesn’t hold me down, just lets me bob up and down in his lap, at times tensing and groaning.

After a few minutes, I let him slide out with a pop.

I work my jaw back and forth and grin. “You’re, um, more than a mouthful.”

His chest rumbles with a laugh.

Rising up on my knees, I rest my hands on his broad shoulders. His hands immediately fall to my thighs and pull me against him.

“Condom?” I ask, feeling a little out of breath.

Please, dear baby Jesus, let him have a condom.

He scrubs his face and groans. “The other room. Hang tight.” He scoots out from under me and I watch his muscular ass saunter out of the room.

I stare at the baby monitor and send up another prayer to let Izzy sleep. Which feels all kinds of sacrilegious. Here I am, praying for condoms and uninterrupted sex.

When he strides in, my eyes eat him up. His lean, cut muscles. That beautiful canvas of color on his arms and chest. His manhood jutting proudly between muscular legs.

If you were to ask what my definition of male perfection is, I would point to Brady Shepherd because he is downright breathtaking.

I know it seems stupid to feel so wrapped up in this cloud of lust—which clearly this is—but when I combine it with what I know about him, how great he is with his niece and how much he loves his family, something else blooms in my chest, an emotion I’m too afraid to label.

He stands in front of me, and I tilt my head up to smile. As he stares down, half of his hair falls over his face, and the other half sits at right angles from me yanking on it.

I fight to hold in my grin. Be sexy, Kat. Don’t laugh at the man’s hair.

When I hold out my hand, he grins and steps closer until his big, proud dick bobs in my palm. “Hi, I’m Brady. It’s nice to meet you.”

Laughter spills from my lips. “Oh, my God. I was asking for the condom.”

His lips pull up higher. “Ask and ye shall receive.” He drops the foil package next to me.

I tear it open and roll the latex over his velvety hard muscle. Doing this feels so personal. Like this, whatever this is between us, is so much more than we’re both saying.

Brady motions for me to scoot up the bed, and I shake my head. I get up and motion for him to lie down.

His eyebrow lifts. “Wanna ride me, huh?”

“Like a bronco.” I lick my lips. “This is Texas after all.”

He laughs and collapses on the bed before folding his arms behind his head.

My eyes slide slowly over him. I want to remember the way his hair falls over his right temple. The way his lips ghost a smile. How his beautiful body, cast in shadows, reclines on my bed.

I straddle his lap, enjoying how that hint of a smile disappears when I slide my wet core across him. Those strong hands move down to grab my rear and pull me closer.

Tilting my hips, I rub harder, loving the grunt of approval that escapes him.