Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
She glanced around. “You think we’ll be caught here?”
“No.” I pressed a button on the fob and unlocked the doors. “And to be honest, in thirty seconds, I’m not going to care, because my face will be buried between your thighs.”
She inhaled sharply, her chest expanding. Her nipples poked through the material of her little white dress. “Then let’s stay.”
“Give me one minute.” In what I now saw as the universe doing me a solid, the smaller-size class of SUV that I’d reserved hadn’t been available at the airport, so they’d given me a Chevy Suburban that comfortably sat seven people in three rows of seats and featured a hefty amount of cargo space once you put the second and third row seats down. As I did so, I sent a quick prayer of thanks to the guy who’d talked me into going with the bigger vehicle rather than the compact.
I opened the door for Lexi and watched her crawl across the fuzzy, flat surface. The bottom of her dress rode up a little higher, exposing more of her skin and making my heart pump faster. The crotch of my jeans was tight as fuck.
But this wasn’t about me. Not right now, anyway. And if there was a ghost of a chance it could be about me later on, I knew what I had to do.
Close the deal.
I got in after her and pulled the door shut. Stretching out diagonally in the rectangular space, Lexi leaned back on her elbows and started to laugh. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” I knelt between her legs and braced my hands on either side of her. My lips hovered just above hers. “Are you okay? You still want this?”
“Yes,” she said.
My favorite word.
I lowered my mouth to hers, tasting the salt and lime from her margarita on her lips, and then on her tongue. For the moment, I kept my hands off her body, eager to earn her trust, willing to be patient. I wanted her to want this. To want me. So instead of groping her like a teenager—which is what the animal in me wanted to do—I used only my mouth.
But I’m pretty good with my mouth.
I teased her lips open with mine and stroked between them with my tongue. Then I pulled back, brushing my lips across hers with a whisper. When she grabbed my head with one hand and sealed our lips tight again, I changed the angle of the kiss to make it deeper. I caught her lower lip between my teeth. I moved my mouth over her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone. I caressed her throat with my tongue in a way that foreshadowed what I might do with it on other, more sensitive body parts.
“Oh,” she whispered softly.
Only then did I slide a hand up her thigh. Beneath her dress. I picked up my head and looked at her. “Yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
When my hand reached the apex of her legs, I rubbed my thumb softly and slowly over the thin material of her underwear. The softness beneath made my blood rush faster. “Yes?”
Another nod. “Yes.”
I hooked my fingers over the stretchy band around her hip. “Can I take these off?”
She brought her legs together and I dragged the panties down her legs, tossing them aside. Then I knelt between her feet and put my hands to the backs of her knees, slowly lifting them. The bottom of her dress slipped down the tops of her thighs and rested on her hips.
Scooting backward, I lowered my head and pressed gentle kisses on her thighs, in between which I spoke to her in a low but commanding tone. “If you want me to stop, you say so. If something feels good, you say so. If there’s something you want—more or less, slower or faster, softer or harder or deeper—you say so.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Nothing matters but you,” I said, brushing my nose and mouth against her pussy, letting her feel my breath and lips and the tip of my tongue. Gradually, I gave her a little more—a long, slow stroke up the center, a lingering caress at the top, a swirling motion over her clit that made her whimper. But I went slow—a ticking clock was no excuse for a rushed or sloppy game. And I didn’t want her to feel any kind of pressure. All I wanted was for her to surrender.
I told her how sweet she tasted, listened carefully to her breathing, paid attention to the sounds she made, noticed when her gasps became sighs and her sighs became moans. “That feels . . . incredible,” she said as I gently sucked her clit into my mouth.
When I sensed her hips beginning to move, I eased a finger inside her, trying not to groan with agonizing desire at the tight, wet, warmth of her. I could not get distracted thinking about fucking her. I had to stay focused—this next part was crucial. If I could find that secret spot inside her, I could work my fingers and mouth together to make magic happen.