Page 57 of The Pilot

She had no idea he was such a tease. Harper arched into his touch.

“Lunch, maybe come back here and relax. Watch something on TV. Read a book. Then I want to take you out to dinner again. Find a nice restaurant where we can have some wine, enjoy each other’s company, take a couple hours to eat.”

Finally, finally, he circled her nipple, and Harper sighed with pleasure.

“Or maybe we’ll stay in all day. Right here in bed. A place I used to hate. Resent because I was never able to sleep. But with you in here with me, I think I’ll work off enough energy to be sleepy again tonight.”

“More, Linc. I need more.”

His teasing smile died. “You’ll get all of me, Harper. I hope you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” she said firmly. “I need you. Stop messing around and touch me already.”

In response, he curled his hand around her breast and pinched her nipple—hard.

Harper arched into him and gasped. It hurt, but it felt so good.

It was hard to believe they were finally here. In bed. About to make love. She’d dreamed of this moment for so long, and it had finally arrived.

She wasn’t willing to be passive though. She wanted to touch too. Wanted to run her hands up and down his chest, take his dick in her hand, see if she could make him lose his legendary control.

As he played with her nipples—he had both hands under her shirt now—she ran her own palms under his T-shirt and up his chest. He didn’t have a six-pack, but he didn’t have much extra padding either. She liked that. Liked that he wasn’t completely built. He felt more human as a result. Not quite so out of her league. Harper was well aware that her boobs were a bit saggy and her belly not very toned and . . .

Self-deprecating thoughts about her body flew from her head as Linc got impatient and growled, “Arch.”

She did, and the next thing she knew, the shirt she’d worn to bed was gone. She had no idea where Linc threw it, and she didn’t care, because suddenly his mouth was around one of her nipples.

She let out a little mew, and her hand immediately went to the back of his head, both to anchor herself and to make sure he never, ever moved.

The only word for what he was doing was . . . feasting. He bit, sucked, and tormented her as he switched from one nipple to the other. It was too much and not enough. And through it all, he made hungry growly noises in the back of his throat. It was sexy as hell, and almost hard to believe it was happening to her.

But the tingling between her legs made it very clear that it was happening to her. And Harper wanted more.

Grabbing the hem of his shirt, she tried to pull it up and over his head, but Linc wouldn’t lift himself from her chest.

“Linc,” she complained.

She saw his wicked grin as he sat up before the material of his shirt blocked his face for a split second. Then he swooped down and went back to playing with her tits.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he said between sucks. “I wondered if you had freckles . . . and now I know.”

“I’ve always hated them,” Harper said breathlessly. “I was also glad they were only on my body and not my face.”

“They’re adorable. And sexy as fuck. I want to kiss every single one.” He lowered his head and proceeded to do just that. But it was when he latched on to the side of her breast and sucked, hard, that Harper arched once more.

“Wh-What are you doing?” she asked, when he didn’t let up. “Wait—are you giving me a hickey? Stop it, Linc!” She began to laugh and squirm in his grip.

When he finally lifted his head, he was grinning from ear to ear, his gaze glued to her chest.

She tried to look down, to see how much of a mark he’d made, but he put his hand over it, still grinning.

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“Couldn’t help it. I love seeing my mark on you.”

Harper flushed. She liked knowing his mark was on her.

He was still grinning when he began to shift down her body.