“And don’t forget, we also have here.” He painted a sugary trail down her stomach, watching her muscles contract and ripple as the frosting disappeared beneath the waistband of her shorts. “What will it be, Trouble?”
“Most songwriters would start from the top. But I find it more creative when you start from the hook and work your way backward.” She rested her palms behind her on the counter. “Hook me, Hunter.”
“Who am I to argue with a lady?” Hands back on her ass, he slid her forward to the edge of the counter until her cupcakes were eye level, puckered, and frosted for his tasting pleasure.
“It’s hotter down south,” she said, even as her breath caught.
“You said the hook, not the climax. And trust me, you’re about to be hooked.”
Hunter considered himself a man of action who always delivered on his promises, so when he pulled her into his mouth, he took extra care in teasing and licking off the frosting, making sure he didn’t miss even a drop before giving her nipple a gentle bite.
“So hooked.” She sighed, her hands tracing his face, his jaw, his shoulders. Everywhere they could reach. They never stopped exploring, even as her head fell back, giving him an all-access pass to explore, which, of course, he took.
His mouth moved down into the valley, where he noticed a few spots that he couldn’t reach.
“I’m a big fan of pink lace,” he whispered against her skin. “But this has to go.”
“Don’t worry,” she assured him as she unlatched her bra and slid it down her arms. “There’s more.” And that’s when the show part of show-and-tell started.
And what a show it was.
Mackenzie undid the top button of her shorts and lowered the zipper, just enough so that—
“Holy Christ,” he breathed. Because there, beneath her cutoffs, was the ninth wonder of the world: the teeniest, tiniest pink thong ever created. Powerful enough to render a man speechless and sexy enough to stop his heart.
“I did warn you that it was hotter down there.”
“The temperature is about to climb, Trouble.” Hunter placed her hands on his face, letting her trace his jaw as he trailed long, hot kisses along her rib cage and across her belly button. Her fingers shook, and her stomach quivered the farther south he ventured.
When he got to the lace edging of her panties, the frosting ran out, but Hunter didn’t stop, because why the hell would he? This close to heaven? There was no way.
Not that it mattered because, when he pressed an openmouthed kiss right beneath the waistband, her skin was sweeter than any frosting or dessert he’d ever tasted. To be sure, he sank to his knees while pressing her legs wider, desperate to get a better taste—right in the middle of her cotton shorts.
Her body came off the counter, and Hunter’s breath caught at the pressure against the back of his fly.
“So sweet,” he groaned, making a second pass. And Mackenzie, always the helper, pressed up into him, giving him a taste that rocked his world. By the third, he slowly slid her shorts down her legs, leaving her in nothing but the thong—which he tugged to the side and—
“There,” she moaned. “I choose there!”
He seconded that motion. Deciding he could stay right fucking there all night. It was like the sweet spot of a song, where he’d fall into the pocket and never want to leave. She clung to him as if she was on board with that idea, so Hunter settled in for the long haul.
He used his tongue, his teeth, playing her body until she was gasping his name. Until her body climbed so high it vibrated. She drew tighter and tighter, until he felt her clench. Felt her body go from fire, to molten lava, to nuclear-fucking-explosion.
“Now for that climax we talked about,” he said right before he took the entire thing from the top again, adding more pressure and giving her so much heat that her body melted back on the counter.
Panties now on the floor, he pressed her legs farther apart with his broad shoulders and frosted her up the center. She gasped at the sensation of cold on slick heat, then moaned low and long as his tongue soothed her. Over and over again, steadily making his way home.
He slid one finger inside, loving how her legs squeezed him as if to hold him there. Like he was going anywhere.
Her hips pressed forward to deepen the friction, so he added a second finger, slowly and deliberately driving her right to the edge. All she needed was the perfect stroke, and she was going to fly apart.
He wanted to savor her all night but knew she was holding on by a thread. So was he.
With one well-placed kiss, he had her shuddering, and then came the stroke, right over her swollen, wet flesh, and she exploded. Just like he knew she would. Her release was so forceful he felt it radiate through his own body, until it shredded what was left of his control.
Mackenzie seemed to be in the same boat, because even as she was vibrating with aftershocks, her hands were on his jeans, unbuttoning and yanking.
“I wantthat,” she said, and he had just enough time to grab the condom from his back pocket before she freed him and sent his jeans around his ankles.
