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“You taste good.” It was a whisper, but he heard it and his body reacted, his arousal ratcheting up another notch. Or twelve. Fuck—who would have thought it was possible to be this turned on and not come?
“So do you, baby. God, so do you.” He reached over, put a lime slice in his mouth. Concentrated on the bitterness of it as her sweet mouth fastened onto his neck and began to suck. God damn but he wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life. His brain told him it was too soon to be thinking like that, but the rest of him didn’t give a shit. She was his.
When she lifted her lips from his skin, he nearly shouted in disappointment. But it was so damn sexy to see her take the shot glass, to watch as she rubbed the cool glass over one cheek and then the other.
He felt himself grow harder, felt himself leak just a little as she dipped her tongue into the icy cold liquid. He clenched his fists, told himself not to rush her. That it would be sweeter if she took her time.
And was it ever. Her eyes met his, clung for long seconds before she tossed her head back and slid the tequila down her throat. Then she was reaching up, grabbing the back of his head, pulling his mouth down to hers, and biting the lime he still had between his lips.
He nearly came, had to grit his teeth against the orgasm that threatened to rise in him—sharp and clean and demanding. Fuck, this woman was turning him inside out.
He was loving every second of it.
“You want another one?” Was that his voice? So low and feral, as if all that was civilized had been stripped from him.
“I’d rather have you.”
Her bold honesty went straight through him, turning up the raging inferno inside of him until he feared spontaneous combustion.
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know.” He tipped the tequila bottle slightly, let a few drops dribble onto her breasts and down her stomach.
She gasped as the cold liquid hit her, arched her back so that her nipples—and the little barbells she had inserted through them—were front and center. Because he was dying for another taste of her, he bent down, followed the trail the alcohol had made with delicate flicks of his tongue.
Then, because he couldn’t resist, he tilted the bottle so that the tequila coated his index finger. He swirled it first over one of her nipples and then the other before bending his head and circling the barbells with his tongue. Then he sucked them between his teeth and tugged a little, loving the way she went pliant at the first pull.
He sucked until all the alcohol was gone, savoring its rich burn as it slid down his throat. Then he brought his hands to Harmony’s shoulders and pressed her back slowly until she was fully open to him.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes heavy with desire, her lips slick from the shot she’d taken. Laid out on his counter like a dessert more delectable than anything she’d ever made, her legs open and dangling over the edge, she was gorgeous. Sexy. Completely overwhelming.
“I may never take a shot any other way.” He lifted the bottle, poured a steady stream of the liquor over her stomach.
She gasped as it ran down her sides, pooled in her navel, and he bent forward, sipping from her slowly. Savoring the spicy-sweet taste of her that mingled with the smooth heat of the aged tequila.
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She moaned, a low, sexy sound that had him glancing up, wanting to see her face. Needing to know that she was as into this as he was.
She had a slice of lime clenched between her front teeth, and he groaned as he swooped down, bit it, taking it into his mouth as he longed to take her.
“My turn,” she whispered, grabbing his hand and sucking his tequila-coated finger into her mouth.
His knees actually shook as she twirled her tongue around his finger, stroking it up and down in the same rhythm she’d used on his dick the other night. His heart was pounding out of control, the need to fuck her an all-consuming ache inside of him.
“Harmony, baby.” He tried to retrieve his hand—along with his sanity—but she lifted her arms and curled her body around his arm, holding him like he was a prize she had won. And then, just when he didn’t think he could get any more turned on, just when his knees were locking and his dick throbbing, she bit down hard on the tip of his finger and shot his lust-crazed body into overdrive.
He ripped his finger out of her mouth, slid out of her embrace as he strived to get himself under some kind of control. Taking a deep breath, he reached over and grabbed the bottle with a hand that shook so badly it was all he could do to get the tequila in the glass. He handed it to her, but she set it aside. Hooked her fingers in the front belt loops of his jeans and tugged until he was nestled right up against her sex. “I’m more interested in the salt.”
And then she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his chest and he knew he was done for. Her tongue—her wicked, wild, wonderful tongue—was everywhere at once. Flicking over his collarbone, sliding up his neck to toy with his earlobe. Moving lower to press into his chest.
“Harmony, baby, stop.” He moved his hands to her head, clenched his fists in her hair. Tried to pull her off.
But she was having none of it, her hands slipping around his waist as her nails dug into the muscles of his back. The flickers of pain were exquisite, the feel of her clawing him unbelievably sexy.
“Stop,” he gasped again, but even he didn’t know if he meant it anymore. All he knew was that he would die if he wasn’t inside of her soon, would come in his pants like a teenager with his first girlfriend. The humiliation was almost more than he could take, even as the incredible desire, the unbelievable experience of wanting her this much, only pushed him higher.
She lifted her head, looked at him with passion-dazed eyes. Smiled wickedly and murmured, “Oh, I don’t think so,” right before she unbuttoned his fly.
Her hand slipped inside, closing around him firmly enough to have him seeing stars. Eyes crossing, hips thrusting, he pumped against her for a few seconds before reaching down and disentangling himself.
