As he groaned and thrust deeper, her nails raked his back and dug into the flexing muscles of his taut, round butt. His erection was so hard it felt like hot iron wedged inside her. Passion and hunger blazed in his eyes, matching the currents of electricity tearing through her. No man had ever made Lexi feel this way before. And she knew, instinctively, that no other man ever would.
Soon she was sobbing Quentin’s name and arching her back, her hips working frantically against his as he plunged and retreated. His lips lowered to her breasts, sucking her engorged nipples until she wailed with pleasure. They glided and rocked together, their primal cries and shouts bounding up to the high ceiling and reverberating around the large room.
Framing her face between his hands, Quentin stared down at Lexi with an expression of such fierce possession that tears swam into her eyes. “You mean everything to me,” he growled huskily. “Don’t youeverforget that.”
“I won’t,” she promised, her voice breaking with emotion. There was nothing about this night she could, or would, ever forget.
As his thrusts came harder and faster, Quentin took her mouth in a searing, ravenous kiss that shook her down to her very soul. Pressure built in her womb, a storm gathering force.
Lifting his head, he gazed deep into her eyes and whispered, “Fly with me, Lexi.”
And she did, the two of them shattering together and soaring higher than any hot-air balloon could ever take them.
Later, after another round of intense lovemaking, they lay spent in each other’s arms, sweat cooling on their bodies, their legs twined beneath the covers that Quentin had pulled up to their waists.
In quiet wonder Lexi explored him, running her hands over the hard-honed muscle that ridged his chest and abdomen. His golden skin was rich and beautiful, as warm and smooth as granite wrapped in silk. A faint smile touched her lips as she traced the ink outline of the Omega Psi Phi tattoo that curved around his bicep. She remembered how proud he’d been the day he received it, remembered the way she’d teased him as she helped him clean and care for the fresh wound.
Looking up into his face, she found him watching her intently beneath the long, thick fringe of his lashes. “So much history between us,” she whispered.
His gaze softened. “I know. It’s amazing.”
“It is.” She sighed contentedly. “Do you really think friends make the best lovers?”
A lazy smile touched his lips. “I think we just proved that, don’t you?”
She blushed, burying her hot face against his chest.
He laughed, a deep, husky rumble that vibrated through her body. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
“I’m not.” She muffled a smile against him. She loved the way his skin smelled—a hint of spice from his cologne, mingled with a musky layer of sweat from their fevered lovemaking. She wished that she could bottle the intoxicating scent. She wished she could preserve everything about this incredible night.
Quentin tightened his arm around her, snuggling her closer to his warm body. As she tucked her head beneath his chin, he played with her hair, running his fingers through the short, layered strands.
“I really like your hair this way,” he murmured.
She grinned. “It grew on you, huh?”
“What do you mean? I’ve always liked it.”
“Really? I didn’t think you were too crazy about it at first. You kept staring at me funny.”
“That’s because I was in shock. It was a dramatic change. Your hair went from here—” he drew a line just below her shoulders “—to here.” He touched the nape of her neck. “It caught me by surprise. But I really like the haircut, Lex. It’s sexy as hell, and it brings out those stunning eyes of yours.”
Warm pleasure tingled through her veins. She smiled against his chest. “I’m glad you feel that way. It would’ve been nice to hear this, say, a year ago, but better late than never.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I thought I told you.”
“Nope.” Apparently there was a lot he hadn’t told her, she mused, remembering the story he’d shared about the first time they met.She was searching for someone, and I took one look into her eyes and hoped it was me.
For as long as she lived, she would never forget those words.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Quentin murmured, lazily stroking a hand up and down her spine.
“What?”
“When I kissed you at the New Year’s Eve ball, you didn’t know it was me. So whodidyou think was kissing you?”
Her face heated at the memory. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.
