Page 28

I was. Always had been sensitive there. Katie, stripper extraordinaire, once told me I was lucky because most women she knew really weren’t too big on foreplay of the busty kind.

Unable to look away, I watched him touch me. There was something highly erotic about this. Never before had I ever done this. Then again, most guys hadn’t really taken this much time, and when he lowered his hands to my hips, I thought he was moving on.

I was wrong.

He lifted me up so I was stretching above him and as I steadied myself by placing my hands on the back of the couch, he closed his mouth over the tip of my breast.

“Oh my God,” I cried out as he drew the puckered nipple into his mouth. “Reece, oh God . . .”

One hand flattened between my shoulders, pulling on my hair. A series of sharp, sensual tingles radiated across my scalp as he savored me. I was trapped, but there was nowhere else I wanted to be as he moved from one breast to the other.

My fingers dug into the cushions as he suckled deep, causing the muscles inside me to coil tightly, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to pull away.

“No,” he groaned. “I’m not done with you yet.”

I gasped as he caught the tip between his teeth. The tiny nip sent molten lava through my blood. I trembled against him, my body hot. “I can’t . . . I need you. Please.”

He released me, and I went wild. Clenching his shoulders, I pressed myself back down against him, finding his mouth blindly. His hands were back to my hips as I rocked against him. The soft material of his shirt teased the tips of my breasts, and the friction between my legs against the hardness was too much.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had an orgasm like this, with most of my clothes still on—without the guy even getting a hand on me, but I could feel it building inside me as I grinded on him, as he pushed up, the thrusts of his hips matching that of his tongue.

Release spun through me, exploding out from my core and rippling through every part of my body. His mouth muffled my moan, but he knew what had happened, because a purely masculine sound rumbled out of him. When the last of the pleasure ebbed through my veins, I was flushed and trembling.

“Look at you,” he said into my ear, his voice harsh. “Nothing hotter, Roxy. You’re like holding on to fire.”

It took me a couple of moments to come to my senses enough to realize that he’d seriously gotten me off, and when I pulled back a little, I pressed a tiny kiss against the corner of his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

His eyes were full of blue fire. “Baby, watching you come made my night.”

I shuddered, thinking he was being kind of perfect, but I glanced down and there was no mistaking the bulge in his pants. Hands still shaking as I rocked back, I reached between us, half expecting him to stop me.

He didn’t.

A lazy, sated smile pulled at my lips as I ran my fingers over the covered length of him, feeling my insides clench all over when his hips popped up in response. I glanced up at him, breathing deeply. “You didn’t get off.”

He shook his head, jaw locked down.

My heart was racing all over again as I undid his button and carefully tugged down the zipper. The material parted, revealing black boxer briefs. Without saying a word, he lifted his ass and me right off the couch, a silent demand. I wasted no time, tugging down his jeans and boxers.

I stared as he sprung free, thick and heavy. Truthfully, this part of a guy’s body wasn’t always the most attractive thing in the word, but Reece . . . oh yeah, it was just as yummy as the rest of him.

Speaking of the rest of him.

As he settled back down, I tugged up the hem of his shirt and he lifted his arms, letting me pull it off. I tossed it somewhere where I hoped he never found it, and got a huge eyeful of what it looked like when a man was no longer a boy and worked his body hard to stay in shape.

Golden skin stretched smooth and tight over his pecs and then down on a chiseled, rock-hard stomach that was tightly rolled. A trail of dark hair ran under his navel, down to where he waited. I dragged my gaze back up. There was a scar just to the left of his navel, skin puckered in an irregular circle. There was another above that. And I knew if I got his pants off, there’d be a third.

My breath caught as I thought about how close I came—how close all of us came—to losing him. Leaning forward, I kissed him, wishing I could take back eleven months of being stupid, because time . . . it was short and never promised.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked again.

His eyes searched mine. “There’s a lot I want you to do, Roxy.”

“Pick one.” Or two. Or three. I’d do them all.

Reece reached down, wrapping his fingers around his cock. Holy smokes, I felt the need to fan myself as his grip tightened. My lips parted as he slowly brought his hand up to the head and then back down. “This is what I want you to do.”

Blood was pounding in my ears and I barely heard myself say, “You . . . you are so freaking hot, Reece.”

He groaned as his hand swept up again and his back bowed, and I couldn’t help it. I moaned. His gaze flew back to mine, a different kind of fire burning in their depths. “I think I know what you want.”

“What?” I breathed.

Reece reached out with his other hand, curling it around the base of my neck as he stroked himself again. A bead appeared at the tip. “You want to watch me.”

Every part of my body burned. Not out of shame, but because it was true. “I’ve never watched a guy—”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he said, moving his hand.

My breath shortened in my chest as I watched him, his grip getting stronger and stronger. I couldn’t believe that I was doing this—couldn’t believe how arousing it was—or that I was still in his lap, my cami forgotten around my waist, my skin flushed. I started to look up.

“No. Watch me,” he ordered, and I shivered at the demand in his voice.

And I watched him as his hand pumped and his hips moved more furiously. I had to place my hands back on his shoulders to hold, and I didn’t look away, not until his hand around my neck yanked me forward.

Reece kissed me as he found his release. No—he didn’t just kiss me, he devoured me as he rocked into his hand. “Fuck,” he drew the word out as his one arm closed around me, gathering me close to his bare chest and holding tight. I buried my head in the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the crisp scent of his aftershave as I felt his heart start to slow.