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“The one still on my plate?”
“No.”
Rea stiffens, but she lets out a breathy sigh right into my face. Her fingers comb up the base of my neck slowly, but when she reaches my hair, she fists it like she’s just got on the back of a bucking bull and needs a handhold.
She kisses me suddenly, deeper, inviting me in, her tongue clashing and tangling with mine. Our teeth get in there by accident too, but it doesn’t matter. She sets me on fire. Ever since the day I saw her walking in the pouring rain, she’s lit up my life. I used to think she was the match or the flame, but now I knew she’s actually the combustible material.
I pick Rea up easily and steer her over to the tiny counter. Lucky for me, I cleaned it after I was done prepping the food for the tacos. She mewls as I sit her down hard. I realize my error in being too hasty, but she rectifies it by unbuttoning her jeans and wrenching the zipper down so hard that the zipper head goes flying before landing with a ping in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“Never mind that,” she gasps. “Pull these off.” She’s already working her jeans down her hips as she shifts on the counter, and all I have to do is pull them down, and they slide right down the world’s most beautiful legs.
My fingers caress her skin, and I make a sound like someone dropped a bag of marbles in a garbage disposal. She makes a sound more like a rattlesnake, minus the rattle and with tons more hiss. I slide my fingers over the warm velvet of her skin, enjoying the feel of it. Her muscles tighten under my fingertips, and her skin breaks out in goosebumps.
“Christ, it’s good to touch you again.” My head has turned to jelly because now I’m spouting out straight mush I should be keeping inside.
Rea nods at me. She won’t tell me it feels good to be touched, but when I trace my hands over her trembling thighs, she arches back and nearly bangs her head on the cupboard behind her. Fire rips through me. One of us is definitely combustible, but it might also be both of us. Yes, that’s probably right. Both of us and the chemistry we’ve always had is the fire.
I let my fingers trail hot paths along the inside of her thighs. Her skin is smoother than the finest silk that has ever been made. With a low growl, I trace along the seam of her black cotton panties. She always did like sporty-looking underwear with the elastic waistband and the big blocky printing. I never cared. Cotton or lace, whatever cut, they were always sexy on her.
Right now, I could just about die at the sight of them.
I slam my poker face in place and caution my dick about not checking out on me too soon. I run one finger under the seam of those panties, finding the fabric already soaked. My fingers against her bare skin have this reaction that makes my head want to blow straight off my shoulders. Something else wants to blow, too, namely my ball sack, but I’m not going to let that happen.
I trace my fingers along her seam, and she makes another snake-like hiss as her fingers curl around the edges of the countertop.
“You can’t eat tacos like that,” she groans, always so bossy as usual.
I freaking love it. “I wasn’t going to try,” I tease in response.
“Oh really?”
“Believe me; I know what I’m doing.”
“We’ll see.”
“Do you doubt me?”
“If I say I do, will you take it as a challenge and be sure to drive me totally and completely wild, torturing me, worshipping my pussy, and all the other things romance books go into so much detail about?”
“Christ. What books have you been reading, and where can I get them?”
Without waiting for a response, I do drive her mad by taking my hand away and running it down her leg. Her skin grows pebbled again, and her legs start to tremble. Oh, yes. She knows I know what I’m doing.
I drop to my knees as she eyes me, her irises so dark that they’re borderline purple. Gently, I lift her legs over my shoulders. I’m not a small guy, but what do you know? I’m actually the right and exact width to spread her open deliciously. Except those damn panties of hers are still in the way. Maybe I don’t know what I’m doing because I should have pulled those off before I got down here.
I reach up and rectify the mistake in a matter of seconds, tearing away the offending material and tossing it somewhere into the kitchen behind me.
I don’t take my time, but I don’t attack like a rookie either, going straight for the clit. Instead, I part Rea with my hand while I lick at the glistening droplets of moisture gathered all along her seam. She gasps, even though she tries to smother it. It comes out like a strange-sounding hiccup.
