Page 115 of Sterling Stone

I glance at the wall of them along the edge of the truck bed. It would take a force to jostle this sturdy truck, and yet I have no doubt reckless motion back here could topple a few of them.

“Fire hazard,” he mutters, moving toward my breasts.

He’s a fire hazard.

I sigh as he reaches the deep V of my dress, where a few buttons have come unbuttoned. The calico print isn’t something I’d typically wear, but it fit the theme. Barn dance. Small town. Stay still.

A blaze of desire rips up my center as Stone nuzzles my breasts, and I press at him, pushing him to his back and climbing over his lap.

My dress rides up my thighs and Stone’s warm hands cover my bare knees, skimming up my legs, forcing my dress slightly higher. He strokes back in the opposite direction, cupping my knees again.

“Queen of the stars,” he whispers, looking at me, like I’ve placed them all in the heavens.

With my hands on his chest, I paint over him again, the image unclear. Just a rough outline of dancing fingers before I tug at the two halves of his shirt, forcefully opening it so I can run my fingers through that coarse hair, feel the heat of his skin, take comfort in the strength of his chest.

“Be gentle with me, Taxi.” His voice is tight, quiet, serious while sweet. The underlying tone says so much more.

“I will be,” I promise.

I, Tallulah Alexander, do solemnly swear to embrace your spirit, to be tender and kind. To take my time.

I unclasp his belt, undo the buttons, and lower the zipper, giving the hard bulge in his pants some relief.

My mouth waters with the possibilities of what this man could do for me. And it isn’t only the physical pleasure I know he’ll give me. It’s the heart-stopping, breath-stealing reality that I could love him.

His gentlemanly ways and his patience. His low voice, sweet smile, and quiet awkwardness.

I lean forward, caging in his head with my braced arms. My hair flops forward on my head, the ponytail suddenly feeling too tight, too confining.

“I don’t know where to start.” I sound like he did when we first stripped each other. When clothes were removed and I felt bare to him in so many ways.

Stone taps his lips. “Start here.”

I stare at his mouth for a second, realizing his entire body is a map. Uncharted territory for me. Again, not just the physical, but this sensation of being close to him, wanting him.

So, I start with his lips, then move to his throat, dragging my body down his.

“Taxi,” he groans, as I pepper his chest with kisses and suck harder at the space just above his hip, before running my nose along that trail that leads lower and lower, beneath his waistband.

With his pants already loosened, and his shirt opened, I tug the remainder of the material free from his jeans, running my palm over his flesh, mapping out the terrain.

The curve of his hip, the flat of his belly, the scratch of his hair.

In this half-undressed state, he’s almost as sexy as if he were fully unclothed. Somehow, he looks more seductive. More tempting.

Pure kryptonite.

I reach for the edge of his jeans, hooking my fingers into his boxer briefs as well, and he lifts his hips for me to tug everything lower, until his dick is free. Free to be admired and explored.

When I wrap my hand around the thickness, fisting it with a tight grip, Stone groans.

His eyes roll back a second and his head tips as well.

“Taxi.” My name is a plea, a prayer, a need. For me.

Queen of the stars? I don’t need it. I’m queen of this moment. This man is giving me all the power.

I lower for him, teasing the tip with the edge of my tongue before opening wide without more preamble. His stomach flinches, and he hitches upward slightly, hips thrusting.