Page 21 of The One Timer

I lick the spot, wondering why she’s doing it, knowing it’s a tell for nerves. “What is it?”

“Confession? I haven’t done this in a long, long time.”

“I can call your confession and raise you a couple of longs.” I have no idea if it’s exactly true, but that’s not the point.

Getting the point, she laughs, and the sound runs through me, soothing and exciting at the same time, and I have no idea how that’s possible, but it’s what I feel, I swear, unless I’ve lost my mind—which is entirely possible.

She wriggles her hips, and whatever mind I have disappears. Falling back on the bed with her, I roll her over onto her back and move onto my side. Watching her, I lower my hands to the button of her jeans and pop it open. Her golden honey eyes go dark, and the curve of her lips turns serious. She reaches down, unbuttons my pants, then lowers the zipper.

Fuck. I lower her zipper and then, gripping the waistband, pull her pants down. She wriggles to help until they’re down to her thighs.

“Time to get serious about this,” I say, rising to kneel. I finish taking off her pants as she kicks off her sneakers. I finish undressing her as my dick rages against my half-unzipped pants.

She could be a swimsuit cover model. She is every man’s—and probably a good number of women’s—wet dream come to life. But I can’t tell her any of that because I don’t know her well enough.

And this is why I don’t do one-nighters.

“I’d tell you you’re gorgeous, but you already know that. Every guy you’ve ever met has told you that.” Her eyes go wide, but I put a finger over her mouth because I can tell she’s going to protest. “Maybe you don’t believe them, but let me assure you, Em, you are the drop-deadest gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

She arches a brow. “You’ve seen a lot of women?”

“Yes, but not if we’re only counting naked women.”

She sits up and reaches to caress my face, her expression appreciative and sass-free, no defenses, all exposed and authentic.

That’s when a switch inside me turns, and I can feel my desire for her go to a different level, from wanting her like she’s an instant infatuation to wanting her because she’s someone I want to know, who I long to know and spend time with.

Pulling my shirt off over my head, I watch her as she settles onto a pillow, and I finish unleashing my dick from my pants and boxers, undressing until I’m naked and kneeling between her legs, looking at a mind-blowing sight like she’s one of the world’s seven wonders.

“I’m going to call you number eight.”

“What?” she giggles, reaching up for me.

I bat her hands away because I need to last more than ten seconds or ten minutes.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous you should be the eighth wonder of the world.”

Now she laughs for real, the kind of laugh where she has to wipe a tear from one eye.

“It’s not that funny. You’re more beautiful than you give yourself credit for.” Her lack of conceit is a rare gift, and I lean forward, coming over her to kiss her lips then trail my mouth down her chin to her neck. She shudders, and fuck, I need to count pucks to get control. Kneeling between her legs, I take a deep breath and let my eyes wander over her. That’s so not good for keeping my cool.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Em. Like a piece of art. Except…touchable.” I touch her, my hands shaky as I take the generous mounds of her breasts in my hands. Their sensual weight and the soft, smooth feel of her pearly skin make me groan.

“Your hands feel good, Chase,” she says, her voice strained and her eyes intense, watching me. “Don’t stop there.”

Chuckling, I steel myself first, then circle my thumbs around her dark nipples. When her hips squirm, I nearly lose it and stop. Shit.

“You’re so responsive. How wet are you?” Not waiting for her answer, I trail one hand down over her ribs and soft, flat belly to the dark V between her legs.

“Please…” she chokes out as I slide a finger inside her.

“You’re so fucking wet,” I whisper. And you’re mine. For tonight.

She moves her hips and reaches up to pull me toward her. I fall forward, holding myself to hover over her with one arm while I stroke her pussy.

“You’re steaming hot and wet,” I murmur as I lower my mouth to take a nipple between my teeth and tease it with my tongue.

She immediately cries out and arches up, pressing into my fingers, swiveling to find relief as she digs her fingers into my hair.