Page 88 of Silver Player

Roxanne stands before me, too close, too potent, and once again, that need to prove myself rears. I cup her face and then slip both hands behind her neck, lacing my fingers together. I don’t draw her against me but just hold onto her, like a man clutching at a buoy before he’s about to drown.

Her hands coast up my chest and fingers curl into the collar of my shirt, giving it a tug. I lower as she tips up, and she kisses me. Soft. Sweet. Sexy. Her mouth is a guilty pleasure, and I open, allowing her to give me more.

Hold onto me, the kiss screams because I want her. All of her, like I haven’t wanted anyone, not even Rachel. Over time, I accepted Rachel never fully gave herself to me. Not in the way I thought lovers should. However, Roxanne is before me, warm and willing, and my hands unclasp, brushing down her body to pull her closer to me. She shivers against me.

“Cold?” I mutter against her lips, knowing it’s quite possibly not the air temperature making her tremble.

“A little.” She laughs. She’s right. With the door open for a few minutes plus the time spent outside, she’s chilled.

“I’d like to warm you,” I tease.

“I’d like you to warm me.”

I pull back to look down at her and see those gray eyes sparkling like polished silver.

“Would this be a first?”

I’ve already admitted I haven’t brought anyone to my home. I’m on the verge of telling her I saved her for last. She’s who I’ve wanted for a while and just didn’t see it behind the bickering. She’ll be the first and last woman to enter this bed because she’s it for me.

Instead, I ignore the question, and say, “If you’re chilly, let’s get you under the covers.” Her eyes question the shift to my voice, but she nods. I spin her so I can unzip her dress. The material hugs her breasts while flaring out at the hips, accentuating her curves. She looks gorgeous, but I don’t think I’ve complimented her yet in it.

“You look beautiful in this dress, but I’d love to see you out of it,” I whisper as I tug down the zipper and suck at her neck. Her head tips as I nip a particular spot, and she purrs. Then I bite the juncture, and her knees give. An arm at her waist catches her, and while I don’t want to rush, I do want her clothing off. I press at the edges of the dress, exposing her back and slipping it over her shoulders. She lets it slide to the floor and then turns to face me. Long legs in knee-high boots. Black lacy underwear and matching bra.

“You’re fucking stunning.” My finger traces the hardly contained swell above her bra. A breast reduction, she told me. She’s still voluptuous and a vision of naughty with her wild silver hair, so much skin on display, plus those boots. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d ask her to leave them on. Instead, I guide her to sit on the edge of the bed and unzip them, taking my time to remove the leather. Inside, are bright yellow socks with rubber ducks on them.

“What the hell?” I laugh, and she covers her face with both hands.

“I knew my feet would be cold.”

I continue to laugh, the spell of my seduction slightly broken as I remove the other boot but allow the socks to remain.

“You’re going to have sex with me with my socks on?” she chides.

“Who said anything about sex?” I tease, tugging my shirt from my pants and then pulling both undershirt and dress shirt over my head. Her breath catches at the sight of me. I work hard at my abs, but I don’t shave my chest. Wild curls dance over my skin there, and her hands lift instantly for them. Her fingertips scratch through the coarse hair like they do on my chin.

Damn, that feels good.

Her hands drag lower, and she helps herself to my belt and then unzips my pants. Before I know it, Roxanne has taken control, and I’m in her mouth, wet and eager, as she sucks at me with unleashed enthusiasm. Her cheeks hollow, and the suction increases, tugging and stroking the length of me with her tongue.

“Roxie,” I breathe. I’m losing control, but I need to regain it. I need to keep proving myself. I press at her shoulders, pushing her back to release me. “Roxie, darlin’.”

The endearment stills her, and she unlatches after a final long drag down my dick.

Damn.

“Get under the covers,” I tell her as I bend to step out of my boxers and pants, kicking off my shoes as I do.

“These sheets are toasty,” she mutters, pulling them up to her neck. She looks innocent and goofy in my bed, like a little kid trying to warm up before sleep. Somehow, she also looks right in the light gray flannel and thick charcoal duvet under her chin. I slip under the sheets myself and pull her to me.

“Roxie,” I whisper, still feeling a little unraveled at how things are progressing.

“William,” she teases. There hasn’t been the mad rush to disrobe or the hasty groping of my typical sexcapades. No dash for the mattress or a quick jump to the finish line. My hands take their time outlining her body as she heats under the sheets. My hands coast her arms. Fingers trickle along her collarbone. I curl around her neck. The rightness of her in my bed is overwhelming.

Her hands lower for me once again, and though I appreciate her eagerness, I want to take my time with her. Strangely, I feel like this might be the only night I get. I grip her wrists, halting her fingers from curling around my dick.

“Let me explore a little first. I want to read you.”

She stares at me.