Take a Chance on Me(59)

“You are gorgeous.” His smile was wicked as he slid a finger along her wet center. “And this is a surprise.”

Her lashes fluttered at the feather-light touch. “What?”

“You’re bare.” Another soft brush passed over moist flesh, not touching where she needed it most.

Oh, yeah. She’d forgotten. She managed to pant out, “The woman . . . at the salon . . . said it was trendy.”

He scooted down, never ceasing his slow, methodical stroking of her slick folds.

She squeezed her lids tightly, gritting her teeth as she silently willed him to touch her harder.

He blew across her overheated skin. “I like it.”

She froze, everything inside her going still. She jerked up. “What are you doing?”

His head lifted and he stared at her from beneath her splayed thighs. “I told you I was going to lick you.”

Panic edged out her lust. “Please don’t.”

One brow arched. “No?”

She shook her head vehemently, trying to scramble up the bed.

A hard clamp over her thighs ceased her frantic movement. “Why?”

“I don’t like it,” she said, completely embarrassed. She’d worked up the courage to ask Steve once, and it had been a disaster. She’d lived in fear of him ever trying it again, but thankfully, he’d never brought it up.

She shook her head. No! Not now! She didn’t want to think about him.

She collapsed onto the bed and threw her arm over her face. All that greedy, dizzying desire was gone like a puff of air. Ruined.

He licked the length of her slit, shocking her.

“No!” She tried to close her legs, but his large palms pressed her down to the mattress.

Another swipe of his tongue.

She glared up at the ceiling, clenching her hands into fists. “I thought you’d said you’d stop.”

His mouth danced over her flesh, lips grazing her inner thigh before his teeth gently scraped over her sensitive flesh. Despite her unease, her thighs trembled in response. She gritted her teeth.

“You’re nervous, not turned off.” His warm breath blew over her skin, tickling her.

It was an effort, but she stayed completely still. “I don’t like it.”

He sat up, and powerful relief stole through her as she let out the air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you.”

He smiled and entwined their fingers together. “Don’t thank me yet.” He brought their joined hands to rest between her thighs. “Touch yourself.”

“Wh-what?” she sputtered. Was he crazy?

He changed his hold, gripping her wrist so that her hand rested against her opening. “Touch yourself.”

“I most certainly will not.” Her tone was as prim as a schoolmarm. This was turning into the disaster she’d been afraid of. “You’re ruining this for me.”

He shrugged, as though totally unconcerned. “Do it, or I’ll do it for you.”

“No,” she said, and looked around for something to cover herself with. “This was a mistake. I’m leaving.”

He laughed. Actually laughed!

Anger spiked, cooling the last remaining heat in her blood. She tried to wrench away, but he held her tight. Over the years she’d taught herself to repress her temper. All the consequences of unleashing it roiled to the surface, but she pushed them away as she kicked at him. “I’m never going to forgive you for this. It was going so well, and you had to go and spoil it.”


“Ruined you for sex forever, did I?” His tone was amused instead of concerned.

“Yes!” She glared, her fury as hot as her lust had been moments before. “It looks like I have to join the convent after all, thanks to you!”

“I see,” he said, looking her over with a lazy glance. “Such a shame.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Her foot shot out as she aimed for the center of his chest.

He batted her away as though she were a pesky fly, his hold on her wrist not loosening even a fraction. “You are so irresistible when you get all riled up.”

“I hope you’re happy. This is exactly the disaster I imagined.” She wanted to kill him. Everything had been perfect, exactly what she’d been wanting, and now it was her worst nightmare.

Without letting her go, he moved up her body and loomed over her. “You have only yourself to blame.”

With her free hand, she pinched him.

Laughing, he shook his head, then captured her free hand and manacled her wrists together. “I knew I was going to have to restrain you.”

“Jerk!” The insult did not leave her mouth with the vehemence she’d intended.

He planted one of those hot, open-mouth kisses over her pulse, calling her attention to the frantic beat under her skin.

“That’s not excitement,” she said, her tone petulant. “It’s anger.”

“I don’t care.” He scraped his teeth over the spot and her body betrayed her by stirring to life. “I like the way it feels under my tongue.”

“Don’t you care about my pleasure at all?” Ugh. She sounded whiny. She hated that.

He sucked at her neck and her vision dimmed as he licked and tortured the soft skin. Some of the lust-filled haze returned, dulling her mind.