Kim didn’t look at Michael. She also didn’t look at her brother. Instead she glared at Sara, as if this was all her best friend’s fault. Which, of course, it wasn’t. A series of both fortunate and unfortunate events had led them to this place.

Fortunate included Sara getting her dream job offer and becoming engaged to Kim’s brother, therefore officially entering Kim’s family. Sister—achievement unlocked. Also fortunate was meeting an extremely handsome younger man who claimed to only want to bang and seemed to have some native skill at said banging.

Unfortunate? Car breaking down again and again, causing awkward meetings with banging male. Banging male totally fibbing about his humping objectives, namely he really did want something more than a ride on the hobbyhorse and oh yeah, he’d never actually rode the hobbyhorse before so did she mind breaking in his saddle?

Now this. Her brother offering Michael a promotion didn’t fall under fortunate or unfortunate but it made certain that Michael would be around in one capacity or another even when her brother wasn’t. O’Halloran’s wasn’t her shop but Brad knew she’d keep an eye on things. That was what family did. And keeping an eye on Michael was already proving to be problematic, since her hands tended to want to follow suit.

She didn’t comment, however. It wasn’t her place. Besides, Michael being Michael would likely be demure and decline. At least he didn’t appear to be the type to have management fantasies.

“I’m very interested in the position, thank you. It’s flattering to be asked and I’m honored that you’d think of me considering I’ve only worked for you for a few months.”

“Excellent. You’ve shown a lot of promise and you’re great with the customers so the position’s yours. Now if we can—”

“There is one potential problem, though.” Michael smoothed a hand down his crisp navy tie. “I’m having sex with your sister. If that’s a conflict of interest, better you know now so you can rescind the offer if necessary.”

“Excuse me?” Brad shifted his attention to Kim. “Again? Really?”

Sara choked on a laugh and had to grab hold of Brad’s shoulder to maintain her balance on the arm of the chair. “I do like a forthright man.”

“He’s more forthright than Kim, that’s for sure,” Brad muttered.

“Oh no, Kim was quite forthright in the dining room earlier. You were too busy tenderizing your steak to hear her.” Sara patted Brad’s leg.

Kim still hadn’t managed to stop staring at Michael, smiling Benedict Arnold that he was. “Was that necessary?” she asked in an undertone that couldn’t be all that low considering he was half a room away. By design. She didn’t need his overactive just-started-having-sex pheromones to catch her up in some kind of noxious cloud.

If they hadn’t already.

“Yes, it was. I want to be honest with my boss. He should have all the facts before he decides I’m the right person to lead his team.”

“Co-lead. Bob will be in charge and he’s quite capable.” Kim swiveled toward Brad. “And what was that crack about again? Again what?”

Her brother snorted. “You know what. It’s not awkward enough when you sleep with guys you work with. Now you’re plucking them from my shop too?”

“Uh, I didn’t pluck anyone from anywhere. I didn’t even know he worked for you at first. Not everything’s about you, jackass.”

“Right. You just bumped into his penis on a random street corner.”

Kim curled her hands into fists. “Interesting argument considering you bumped into my best friend’s vagina.”

“At least her vagina was in my own freaking house. You had to go across town.”

“Enough,” Michael said, his voice lashing through the air like a whip. “Is any of this productive?”

“Not usually.” Sara sighed. “Most of the time I let them just burn themselves out on insults. They spark hard but fizzle out fast.”

“I’m done. If he wants to think I’m a tramp, that is his prerogative. Even if it’s wrong.” Kim shook her head and slumped in her chair. The nubby fabric against her bare back reminded her of how carefully she’d dressed that evening. She’d wanted to look her best despite all the reasons she and Michael mixed like oil and water, which probably said plenty.

Either she was a hopeless tease or she truly wasn’t finished with him.

Brad crossed one leg over his opposite knee. “I don’t think you’re a tramp,” he said gruffly. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again and you always pick the wrong men. No offense, Michael. I don’t mean you.”

“None taken.”

“She did better this time,” Sara said, giving her fiancé a cheery pat on the cheek. “Michael’s a cutie-pie.”

“Don’t lay it on too thick.” Brad tugged on Sara’s arm and pulled her into his lap. “Keep in mind your eyes are supposed to stay on me.”

“Looking is free.” Grinning, she gave him a smacking kiss.

For his part, Michael started blushing when Sara called him cute. Kim couldn’t help thinking it was adorable how readily he flushed.

Too many things about the man charmed her. Even the fact that he’d stood up to Brad and announced with casual indifference that he might not be the right guy for a job he’d admitted he wanted. Because he’d slept with her.

No. Correction. He’d said he was sleeping with her. Present tense. And damn if the realization didn’t make the area between her thighs turn achy and damp.

“Bedroom arrangements aside, do you still want the assistant manager position, Michael?” Brad asked.

Michael shifted on his chair, still stroking his tie. “I do. I think I’d be good at it.”

“Then it’s yours.” Brad gestured toward Kim. “Whatever you do or don’t do with my sister is your business and hers. Not mine. I have my own love life to relish at the moment.” He slipped his arm around Sara’s waist, pulling her close. “Besides, if I’d said anything else, I would’ve been couching it on my honeymoon, wouldn’t I?”

Sara rested her head on his shoulder. “Pretty much.”

They looked so good together. So fucking happy. Kim blinked away tears, joyful ones. “I love you guys. I’m so thrilled for you.” She crossed the room and knelt in front of their chair, hugging them both. “I can’t wait to plan a fabulous wedding. I’ve never been a maid of honor before.”

Sara’s fidgeting was the first clue that something was amiss. The second was Brad’s mumbled, “Told you so.”

“Uh, well, we were intending to just—” Sara began.

“Oh hell no. If you’re abandoning me in this big old house all by myself to move across the country, you’re for damn sure going to give me a wedding to remember first.” Kim pursed her lips and split her glare between both of the people she loved most. “I’m putting my foot down here, people.”

Brad tipped back his head and laughed. “What do you say, Sara Smile? You know pit bulls aren’t half as relentless as she is.” He ran his hand down the length of Sara’s hair and whispered something in her ear that made her cheeks redden. Then he flashed an innocent grin. “I think she’s cool with a bigger wedding now. What did you have in mind, sis?”

Kim sat back on her haunches. “It’s your wedding. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t intend to run off to some justice of the peace or something and deny me my God-given right as best friend and sister of the groom to wear a hideous gown and cry copious tears.”

Sara sighed. “You could still wear an ugly dress and cry in the courthouse.”

“Forget it. You’ve never been a bride before and had all eyes on you. This is your time to shine.”

“Fine, fine. You have more expertise in this area than I do anyway—” Sara broke off, looking horrified. “Oh shit, I did not say that. I mean…” Helplessly, she looked at Brad. “What did I mean? Hurry up and take the awkward away.”

“She meant she saw that picture of you in your wedding dress and you looked absolutely gorgeous.” Michael’s smooth reply drew three sets of gazes his way. He jerked a shoulder. “It was in the cabinet in the dining room.”

“Shoved in the back. Were you snooping?” Kim hoped the sharp questions disguised the wobbliness of her voice.

“If you like. I call it observing.”

“She was gorgeous in her dress, wasn’t she?” Sara asked wistfully. “I didn’t know her then but wow. Model-worthy. If I find a dress half as lovely, I’ll be ecstatic. As for the rest, there’s no comparing.”

“Oh stop it.” Kim flicked Sara’s knee. “You’re beautiful. And I practically had a mullet.” And a baby bump, though she didn’t add that part. She’d gotten married for love—and babies. In the end, she’d had neither.

Determined to change tracks, she grabbed Sara’s hand and raised her brows. “Where is the ring? No ring, clod?” She thumped Brad’s leg. “Did I teach you nothing?”

Her brother smirked. “Actually yes, you did teach me nothing in this case. I can honestly say we have never discussed rings, wedding or otherwise.”

“We’re going to pick it out later. He wanted me to choose something I liked and it’s really not a huge thing in the grand scheme.”

“How are you my best friend? Not a big thing? How are you supposed to flash your ring in every picture if you don’t have one?” Shaking her head, Kim let Sara go. “Fine, fine. To each her own.”

Brad nudged Sara’s shoulder. “Whoa, sounds like my sister is giving us a bit of credit. Today is truly a special day.”

“Will you go shopping with me?” Sara asked, ignoring Brad. “We need to plan this wedding quickly so I need a dress fast.”

“How fast?”

Sara winced. “I’m due in Laramie the week of Thanksgiving.”

Visions of an empty table on Thanksgiving danced in Kim’s head but she ruthlessly shoved them away. Her woes weren’t pertinent at the moment. “Thanksgiving’s less than three weeks away.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Sucky timing with the holidays and all, but the previous director quit on short notice and—”

“I’m on it. We’ll make it happen,” Kim said firmly, hoping like hell she wasn’t telling a lie.

She kept up the brave face throughout all of the excited wedding talk, even turning on some music and shaking her ass a bit with Sara when Brad and Michael escaped to the garage to do who knows what. After their jubilant booty dance, somehow they managed to come up with a rough plan for the festivities—including a guest list and possibilities for caterers—in under three hours. It helped that she’d spent the bulk of her life in Fairdale and knew approximately everyone. This wasn’t high wedding season and she had faith she’d be able to pull in some favors. Plus, Sara wasn’t a diva so she was fine with making concessions for her accelerated timeline.

Twice she tried to ask Kim if she was really okay. It was a lot to take in all at once. But Kim just smiled and diverted her right back into the plans, determined not to pee on their cloud.

Brad and Sara were her closest family. No matter what, she would share in their joy and not think of herself. For once, she would be selfless.

Hopelessly alone at the most difficult time of the year, but selfless just the same.

The honeymoon would consist of a weekend away in New York City before they had to leave the following Tuesday. Sara’s first day at work would be the day after Thanksgiving.

Kim planned to be heavily drunk that entire weekend. It was good to have goals.

By the time Sara retreated to bed with Brad hot on her heels, Kim was on the verge of a headache. Not to mention the jaw ache she’d earned from excessive smiling. She wasn’t fit to be a decent human. Masquerading as one for a few hours had positively worn her out.

So when Michael strolled in the room, an orange cup in one hand and a silver tumbler in the other, she had to force herself to not snarl. “What’s that?”

He sat beside her and held out the cup. “Find out for yourself.”

She accepted it and sniffed before taking a healthy sip. And moaned out loud. “Holy crap, that’s good.”

“I know.” He gave her a smug smile. “It’s my special concoction. I checked with Brad and you had most of the ingredients. Good thing he likes cocoa powder. The Nutella was an unexpected bonus.”

“I was expecting alcohol and you made me a chocolate hazelnut milkshake. This is why you’re like no other man, ever.” She took another drink and rolled her tongue over her lip to erase her certain milk mustache. “This is not a bad thing, by the way,” she added as he focused on the wall beyond her head.

Great. Clearly she wasn’t fit for consumption. Michael should leave before she crushed him under her giant unfeeling bare feet.

Kiminator, reporting for service.

“I know I’m not like your usual dates.”

The understatement of that made her snort into the cup she’d shamelessly buried her face in. She wanted to absorb the chocolate into her pores. “I don’t really date. I screw around and then break up either when I realize we have nothing in common or when they realize I’m not suitable to bring home to mama. Mainly because I’m mama’s age.”

“Not a problem with me. My mom only wants me to be happy.”

“How’d you luck out there?”

“Because she wasn’t. Isn’t,” he corrected quietly.

“She never found anyone else after your father’s passing?”

“With nine kids?” He circled the silver overflow cup. “No. She had a date or two here or there. She’s still in that cramped place and it’s hard for her to invite people over. Even friends. I asked her to move in with me, with the kids. I have so much room.”

And you’re lonely, she realized, biting her lip to keep from voicing her observation. One that dovetailed awfully closely to the realization she’d come to about herself when she’d learned she would soon be all alone in the house she loved so much.

No one to share bowls of popcorn with or insult during the football game when the Raiders were losing. No one to trade sex stories with after sneaking home from a date. No big brother to flick milk at across the table over breakfast. No one to come home to, period.

Alone. Alone. Alone.

“Actually I’m kind of in a similar sitch. But it’s my fault for not becoming a full-fledged adult when I had the chance.” She lifted the dripping straw she hadn’t bothered to use and offered it. “Here. You need this as much as I do.”

Lips curving, he leaned in to draw on the end. Watching his throat undulate as he swallowed did uncomfortable things to her stomach so she went back to slurping her shake. She could almost feel another mistake happening with every suck.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice too soft. He wanted to hear her life story, she could tell. And he was the kind of man she wanted to share it with. He would listen and actually care. Maybe even stroke her hair while she spoke. So fucking dangerous all the way around.

Then again, what did she have to lose? She’d already deflowered a man almost a decade and a half younger than she was. A man who worked for her brother and by extension, for her—especially now that she would surely need to be more involved in the day-to-day operations of O’Halloran’s. Maybe she could head to the shop every night after work ended at the sanctuary and stay until closing. Avoid the I-don’t-have-anyone-to-eat-dinner-with rush.

Yeah, rock bottom would make a cushy landing spot for her head right about now.

“After my marriage ended, I didn’t try to build a life. Not the way the people I went to school with did. Do you know almost my entire high school class is coupled up? Most of them long married with kids?”

“It’s the way of the world.”

“It is. I tried it that way. For some reason, it didn’t work for me. So I decided to have indiscriminate sex and drink on the weekends and basically live like a frat boy because I was on my own and didn’t have to account for my actions to anyone else. My mom’s death woke me up some.” She rubbed ice cream off the rim with her thumb. “Not enough. When Brad moved in, and Sara after that, it was only supposed to be a temporary thing while we fixed this place up for sale. Along the way, I forgot the temporary part.” She curled her damp thumb into her hand. “They didn’t.”

“They’ll visit, you know. They aren’t going away forever.” The gentleness of his tone made her eyes burn.

“I know. And I’m so happy for Sar. So happy for my brother. You saw them together. They…fill each other up, you know? They’re everything good about marriage, and they haven’t even signed on the dotted line yet. I know they’re going to make it.”

“What about you?”

She let her head drop to the cushions. “I don’t know. It scares me that I don’t have all the answers.” She released a long breath. “I can’t see my future from here.”

“So let’s talk about what you do know.”

“I like living in Fairdale. I lived in Florida for a while and it wasn’t for me. This is.”

“What else?”

“It makes me happy to work at the sanctuary. I even enjoy—” She bit her lip, thinking of the brightly colored bird she would be losing too.

“What?”

“I was thinking about Telly. He’s Sara’s. She’ll be taking him with her too.” She closed her eyes. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”

“Of course you are.” He eased the cup out of her hand. “Tomorrow you’ll have a plan of attack for all of this. Right now, you’re reeling. Lots of changes all at once.”

She smiled and turned her head toward him without opening her eyes. “Are you trying to sweet talk your way into my bed?”

He shifted on the cushions, easing away. She felt the wall going up between them and for once, she wasn’t the one adding the bricks. “After my screwups with you, I wouldn’t presume I had any right to do that.”

“But you would have if you hadn’t lied?”

“I might’ve. I’m not perfect.” The exasperation in his voice made her grin. “What?”

“Those words are very appealing to me. Know why? Because I’m not perfect either. And you look like my kind of mistake.” She forced up her heavy lids and stared at his handsome profile until he gave into her silent command to look her way. “Would you like to spend the night?”

There was no missing his rapid intake of breath. “On the couch?”

“No.” She leaned closer and palmed his scruffy jaw. Five o’clock shadow had turned into midnight and it gave him a rakish appearance she greatly appreciated. “In my bed. To sleep. They recommend a solid eight for optimal functioning the next day, you know.”

His lips twitched. “Who’s they?”

“Just work with me, Montgomery.”

“Working.”

“Can you sleep in my bed and, I don’t know, give good spoon like you did last night?” She let out a shaky breath. “I have a feeling I might need it.”

He reached up to caress the side of her face, his thumb tracing under her eye. God, her lashes actually fluttered from his touch. “I can do that.”

* * *

His cock hurt.

Michael inched open an eye, peered around at the unusual surroundings and slumped back into the pillows. Just because, he glanced down the length of his body. As expected, a prominent bulge lifted the sheet. And no wonder. He cast a sideways glance at the woman sprawled on her stomach beside him, one pale arm tossed carelessly across his stomach. He’d worn his boxers to bed to ensure her comfort while Kim wore a skimpy little red nothing with spaghetti straps that didn’t stay up. Her dark hair spilled in every direction, including over his face.

Before he blew it away, he took a quick sniff. God, that summery scent had made him hard in his sleep. The full breast tucked against his arm hadn’t helped the cause either.

A quick look at the alarm clock told him it was almost five a.m. He didn’t have to work today since he usually had Saturdays off but that didn’t mean lounging in bed was a smart idea. This wasn’t his bed, for one. Seeing his boss across the breakfast table didn’t really do much for him. Besides, he’d fulfilled his promise to Kim. He’d held her for most of the night. His arms still tingled from the incredible feel of her body pressed close.

He needed to get up.

Squaring his shoulders, he eased Kim off him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Fuck, it’d be a miracle if he made it into the bathroom with the boner he was sporting.

“Going somewhere?”

His breath hissed out between parted lips. “It’s almost morning.”

The mattress shifted an instant before soft lips skated up his spine. “You have to work?”

“No.” He almost wished he could say yes because this woman, this bed, represented a landmine. Pleasure lurked in its depths—if he survived the initial blast.

“Got a hot date?”

He couldn’t help smiling at the sleepy huskiness of her question. “A wise woman last night told me she didn’t date, just screwed around. I’m thinking that might be a plan for me too.”

“Hmm. Then we should practice, don’t you think? I’d hate for you to go out into the world all…inexperienced.”

He rolled his neck, trying to keep his body from tensing any further. It was basically a lost cause. The sex and silk in her tone had hardened him to steel in a nanosecond. “You’d be doing a public service in a way. Keeping the hapless non-virgin from unleashing his moves on an unsuspecting populace.”

“Yes. And we all know I’m a humanitarian. By the way, you’re going to have to tell me more about how a man lives with a woman for years and keeps his cherry. I’m still confused.” She rose up on her knees behind him and circled her arms loosely around his shoulders. “Though I have to say…” Her lips closed over his earlobe and he swallowed a groan. “I liked getting the first juicy taste.”

A shudder moved through him. Apparently her teasing hadn’t been verbal only. She intended to deliver on her promises. “What’re you doing?”

“Right this very second? I’m about to slide my hand into your shorts and take care of that very attractive morning wood with my mouth. I’ll probably bring you right up to the edge and then I’ll search around for a condom, put it on with my teeth and ride you like I’m in the fucking Kentucky Derby.”

“Oh.”

She laughed at his non-answer and rubbed her cheek against his. “Is that a good oh or a bad one?”

“It’s an I’m trying not to cream my shorts before you touch me one. And also an oh shit one because I can’t believe you’re giving me another chance when I’m not sure I deserve it.” He turned his head and caught her lips, kissing her gently. “You’re a gift to me, baby. I don’t want to pull the ribbon too soon or rip the paper. I want to unwrap you just right.”

Her tongue touched his, as tentatively as her hand caressed his back. Her flirtatiousness seemed to have disappeared with his speech.

Had he freaked her out? Done something else wrong? Turned her off completely? If he hadn’t yet, he probably would soon. This sex thing was more complicated than he’d ever imagined.

“You’re going to have to tell me when I fuck up,” he said, unable to steady his voice. It felt like so much more was on the line than a simple bounce and tumble. “I’ve never been the best with cues and especially not in this arena. If I touch you in a way you don’t like or if I move too fast or too slow or hell, if you don’t like the way I kiss, you need to say it so I can fix it.”

She tipped her forehead against his. “I love the way you kiss. You don’t rush.”

“Anything worth doing is worth taking your time.” He brushed her tangled hair away from her face, wishing he could see every one of her beautiful features. “Can I turn on a light?”

“I have cellulite.”

He stroked her cheek. “Is that why you’re so fucking hot?”

Her laughter took him by surprise. “Another thing I love about you? Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re screwing with me. I never quite know what will come out of your mouth next.”

“That depends on what you’d like to hear.”

“Dirty talk,” she decided. “Definitely dirty talk.” She moved away before he could question her further and turned on the light on the nightstand beside the bed. “Better?”

“Much. What kind of dirty talk do you mean?”

She sat in front of him, pulling her bent leg toward herself. The pose gave him a brief glimpse at the satiny curls between her legs. Naturally she wasn’t wearing panties. God.

She arched a brow. “If you have to ask, you must not be a dirty talker.”

“I can learn,” he said quickly. Too quickly probably. Like the might-as-well-still-be-a-virgin he was.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that.” Tossing back her hair, she relaxed into the pillows and tugged on the ties that, apparently, kept her nightgown together. With a few flicks of her fingers, the red lacy fabric fell away, baring her gorgeous body. “First, I’m going to teach you how to properly eat pussy.”

“W-hat?” Of course he stuttered. Because this was the perfect time to act like a douche. “I already know how to do that.”

“See, this is part of that story I need to hear. Later.” She dismissed it with a wave and wrapped her hand around her breast, almost casually. Though how anyone could touch such perfection in a blasé manner, he’d never understand. She leaned forward and widened her legs, giving him a clear view of heaven. Flushed raspberry folds taunted him, glistening with moisture. “Tell me, Michael, are you a giver as well as a receiver?”

“I am.” He couldn’t clear the hoarseness out of his voice. Nor could he stop staring at the gleam of wetness on her inner thighs. God, he wanted a taste. “Let me prove it to you.”

“Oh, I will. First I think we need a reverse safe word.”

“Huh? What?”

She chuckled and tipped up his chin. “Eager, aren’t you? Eyes on mine for a sec. It’s important.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know about safe words?”

“Yeah. In porn I’ve seen…” He trailed off and nodded. “You like it kinky?”

“Well, that could be negotiated but that’s not what I meant. I think we need our own kind of safe word. Instead of it meaning to stop, ours will mean go. When I say that word, you’ll know I’m ready for anything and you can do whatever you’d like to me.”

His chest tightened and he had to struggle to draw a full breath. Maybe he was still asleep. This definitely counted as the best dream he’d ever had. “Anything?”

“Sure. I mean, if it’s really out there, tell me first. Otherwise, ready, set, blow. Or whatever floats your boat.” She smiled slyly.

“You’re serious?”

“Sure. Until you stop worrying about cues, we’ll use a word that will serve as your green light. No danger of crossed wires then. I’ll still speak up if you veer too far off course.”

“Ice cream,” he decided. “Whenever I think of ice cream from now on, I’ll think of you sipping your milkshake and trying to put on a brave face. Kind of like you’re putting on an act now, as if you think that’s what I want. Kim, the experienced seductress, leading the newbie through the night.”

She swallowed hard. “You asked me to corrupt you. Can’t get much clearer than that.”

“Yeah, I did.” He braced his hands next to her hips and bent to nibble her mouth. “Now I’m thinking we can corrupt each other. Though in the meantime, I wouldn’t mind some of that instruction.” He bit down on her lower lip, testing them both. “I live to serve.”

Slipping her hands into his hair, she returned his kiss, letting him take the lead. Knowing that a powerful, sexually confident woman like Kim was looking to him for pleasure was a damn heady thing.

“Then consider this me saying ‘ice cream’,” she murmured.

He nipped her jaw, working his way up to her ear with its tiny gold hoop. A hidden delicacy tucked behind her sexily tousled hair. “I forgot to tell you the other reason I picked ice cream. It reminds me of you in other ways.”

“Does it?” She already sounded a little breathless.

“Mmm-hmm.” He cupped her breast, feathering his thumb over the plump tip while his eyes searched hers. “Key lime ice cream especially.” He took her nipple in his mouth, sucking gently. Biting down at the catch of her breath. He trailed his other hand up the inside of her leg, sliding in her wetness until he reached the apex.

“Why key lime?”

Releasing her breast, he kissed the other tight peak before shimmying down her body. “Ice cream’s wet and creamy and sweet.” He opened her up for his fingers, caressing her with light strokes. Holding her lower lips apart, he darted his tongue over her clit and savored her sigh. “So wet.” He traced his fingertip over the swollen flesh, finally inching it into her clenching passage. “But key lime’s got that hint of tart mixed in, making the flavor so much richer. So much more complex.” He breathed the words against her, hoping like hell they affected her the same way they did him.

From the way she squeezed him inside, he was on the right path.

He slid his finger in and out, studying her face. Her heavy fringe of lashes blocked her half-closed eyes, as if she couldn’t hold the lids up any longer. Her cheeks and neck and upper breasts were flushed, her mouth parted and damp. The rosy tips of her breasts beaded with need. And Christ, the longer he looked at her, the more dire the situation in his shorts became. He shifted hands to grip his cock, clamping tight at the base.

“Take them off. I want to see.”

“This is about you—” He stopped at the hungry expression she wore. Yeah, so maybe him getting naked would add some additional fuel to her fire. Her long, curvy body definitely had upped his.

Upped being a literal term.

He rose and slid off his shorts, grunting at the sensation of the cotton brushing engorged flesh.

“Come here.”

Absolutely no way he could say no to that. He approached the head of the bed and she curved toward him, taking his erection between her ruby red lips for a leisurely suck. Her hands never stopped moving, rubbing his dick, his belly, his balls. She didn’t touch him tenderly either. It was all rough pulls and violent tugs, yanking him from that quivery edge straight into the depths of oblivion in the time it took him to gather her hair in his fists and issue some commands of his own. “That’s it, baby. I love how you tighten your mouth on me. God, that feels good. Scrape your nails over—”

Hearing himself, he hesitated. Was he being lame? From the sounds she was making and the way she kept hauling him into her throat so hard that she nearly choked, he had to think she was into it.

Though there was another way to check.

He angled his body so he could run his palm over her mound. “Holy shit.” Wetness smeared his skin and when he speared her with his index finger, she arched and clutched at him, causing his length to twitch in her hold. She released his hard-on and pressed herself into his hand, whimpering for more.

“You’re enjoying it? What you’re doing and what I’m doing?”

“God, yes. I love when you push all the way into my throat. It makes me so hot. Stop holding back on me. And oh—that’s good too.”

Going with it, he corkscrewed his finger in and out of her pussy, going deeper on each trip. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Use two fingers. Twist them together, make them thicker, like a cock. Like your cock. Work them in and out, curving up until you feel that swollen spot—right there. Right there, oh hell yeah. Perfect.” She leaned up on an elbow and huffed her hair out of her face. “Someone’s gonna get an A tonight.”

Chuckling, he eased out of her grip and returned to his place on the bed. “Shh. I have a pussy to eat.” The word tasted a bit foreign—she was right, he wasn’t exactly a dirty talker by nature—but he couldn’t deny the effect it had on his groin. So he said it again experimentally against her clit, drawing the s sound out into a long vibration. She groped for the pillow, driving her other hand into his hair to hold him in place. He rolled his tongue over her, still pumping inside, murmuring his encouragement. “How am I doing? Do you think you can come?”

“Do that thing with your fingers again. That twist. And keep sucking my clit. Don’t let up the pressure.” She panted between words, proving to him that she wasn’t protecting his feelings. She really was almost there. “Keep it steady. Please.” She moaned and ground her hips, pulling his face down into her in the sexiest fucking way. He fingered her hard, doing what she’d said, adding a hint of teeth to his suction.

She went wild, pelvis rotating as her walls contracted again and again. “God yes. Please. Don’t stop.”

“Not stopping. Ever. God. Keep coming. Let me have it.” He removed his hand and plunged his tongue into her still pulsing passage, spreading her legs wide as he feasted on what she’d given him. He’d never been starved like this before.

Scooping up her hips, he drew her against his face, burying his mouth in her succulent cleft, lapping and tonguing her until she let out a keening moan and nearly yanked out a handful of his hair. And then she was pulsing again, pouring that sweet honey over his lips and chin. Drenching him in her pleasure and acceptance and affection.

The instant he finished he had to turn away and encircle the base of his painfully aroused cock to stave off the orgasm threatening to leak all over his thighs.

At least she didn’t laugh. Much.

She dropped damp kisses along his shoulder then reached down and replaced his hand with hers, stroking him right back up to the crisis point. “Can’t waste this. What was it you wanted me to do before? My nails, here?” She grazed his lower stomach and he groaned, pressing his face into his arm. God, he didn’t want to blow too soon. “Or was it here?” She cupped his sac, nails teasing the tight, sensitive skin. “How much can you take?”

He gritted his teeth. “Right now? Not much. I want to fuck you so goddamn bad.”

“Mmm, magic words.” She licked his neck, long and slow. “Roll on your back. I’m about to make both of our wishes come true.”