“I told you, baby,” he chuckled, the sound dark as obsidian. “I never miss the hole. Now, spread those pretty-ass legs for me.”
Ecstatic, she propped herself onto her elbows and dug the heels of her boots into the quilt. Plucking a dandelion bloom from the sugar-soft soil, he traced the cottony puff over her underwear, sighing appreciatively as she rocked against his knuckles. Jamie brought the bloom, mostly intact despite her best efforts, up to her lips.
“Make a wish,” he whispered, nose buried into the apex of her thighs. “Quick, ’cause I’m dying to taste you.”
She blew, releasing the white wisps—seeds of their budding future—into the technicolor sky. “It already came true.”
“Mine too.”
His smile warmed her core, where, coincidentally, he was building more heat. Slowly, he dragged his thumb up and down her folds. Her thong was so damp it clung like second skin. She needed it off, and something else on her.
Him.
“Should I make you come like this?” he asked, aquamarineeyes shifting cobalt in the lantern’s glow. “You fuck my fingers so good.”
“God, you’re a pain.” She laughed, breaths jagged and voice floaty.
“Then tell me what you want.” The playfulness in his eyes morphed into pure, red-blooded want. “I wanna give you everything.”
“Everything.”
The only word she managed. She was a supernova of lust.
He slid her panties aside. Jamie pressed one thick finger inside her and then another, elongating her airy moans and making her half-lidded eyes squeeze shut.
I wanna give you everything.
His words echoed in her mind. She wanted that too, but it had been years since she’d come from sex with a man. Not even with Eli. These days, she was more of a vibrator-on-high kind of girl—a pragmatic solution for emotional burnout so severe, getting off felt like a chore.
Jamie pulled out his fingers, taking his time. He sucked indulgently. “Even better than I remembered. Can I lick you, baby?”
Tempting, but the stiff peaks of pleasure in her belly felt too right. She couldn’t wait. “Later.”
Brinton stroked his erection, which strained against his jeans. She keened at his throaty groan. “I need this right now.”
It was stitched across his face: he was one nipped thread from coming undone. She dragged his T-shirt over his head, revealing more of his skin, which glowed in the lantern’s light. He popped onto his feet, toed off his boots and socks. In one, seamless motion, he peeled off his jeans and boxer briefs, kicking them to the side with her dress.
When he straightened, Brinton was beyond words. Every distinct line of his chest, corded muscles on his forearms, andMichelangelo-carved thighs were masterful. And not to mention what she discovered when her gaze dipped beneath his waist.
“Jamie, you’re beautiful.”
Her fingertips traced the deep grooves near his hip bones. She licked the creases forming his abs and the soft trail of hair leading to his crotch. She could have bottled his salty-sweet taste, lathered herself in it.
“I love when you look at me,” he said, lust burning bright in his eyes. “Nobody sees me like you do.”
Brinton needed him in a way words wouldn’t satisfy. When he dragged her panties down her thighs, she whined at the shock of humid air on sensitized skin.
Finally, he pulled a strip of condoms from the picnic basket.
“Were you planning to bust those out after appetizers or before dessert? No, wait—an amuse-bouche?” She laughed until he planted plush kisses down her chest and belly, teasing out a low, rolling moan that dragged her to the edge of consciousness.
His tongue caught between his teeth. “I got no clue what an amuse-bouche is. But if it makes you sound like that, then yeah. It’s an amuse-bouche.”
Jamie rose on his knees, giving Brinton an extraordinary view of him. He was so wonderfully and unmistakablyhers. She plucked the foil packet from his hand, set it beside her. Maybe shecouldwait a few more minutes.
“I’ll give you a hint,” she teased, sitting on her own knees. Brinton sucked him into her mouth, eager to be filled despite the sheer magnitude of his length.
Damn.
