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“Now what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that it’s about time you take me back to your place and have your way with me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. What’re you thinking?” Please tell me you’re thinking the same thing.
“I’m thinking that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I like it. Keep going.”
“And I’m the luckiest man in the world because I’m here with you.”
“Tuck?”
“Yes, sweetness.”
“Take me home before I get you naked on the hood of your car.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
11
~ Tucker ~
Being around Scarlett is a continuous struggle. Even more so as an adult than when I was a teenager. She’s so gorgeous and sweet and funny and sassy, and all I want to do when she’s around is shove her up against a wall and bury myself deep inside her body.
Dinner tonight was torture. When she spread her legs beneath the table, I thought I was going to come right there in my pants like a horny virgin teenager. I struggled to keep it together throughout dinner, and now I’m fighting to keep my cock deflated until we get back to my place, which is practically impossible with her sitting beside me in that dress.
I wasn’t lying when I told her that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—she truly is. But it’s not just what’s on the outside that I find attractive. All of Scarlett is sexy, even the green monster she keeps hidden deep inside.
I pull into the driveway, open her car door, and we practically run like school kids to the front door. She wraps herself around me, peppering me with kisses while I try to unlock the door. We stumble through it in a tangle of arms and legs, and as soon as I get the door shut, I spin her around and pin her against it.
The smile on her face dies. Her eyes fall to my lips. I push my fingers into her hair, cup the back of her head, and pull her face toward mine. Our lips crash together. A low moan pulls from her throat, and that’s all the encouragement I need. I push my tongue into her mouth and kiss her the way I’ve been dreaming about since our make-out session in her dad’s front yard.
She fists the front of my shirt and plasters her soft curves to my body, and there’s no holding back the groan that pulls from my chest. I’ve dreamed of this for years—having her all to myself. Now, here she is, my sweet Scarlett, trying to climb me like a tree.
With one hand on her head, keeping her where I want her, I slide the other to her lower back. I press my palm to the small dip at the top of her ass and she arches, pushing her hips to mine. When she rolls her hips against me, I cup a hand to her ass and lift her up.
Scarlett wraps her legs around my waist. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, sliding over my shoulders and along my neck before diving back into my hair. I could’ve taken her against the door, but I’ve waited too damn long to be with this woman, and I want to do it right.
With our lips fused together, I stride down the hall and kick open my bedroom door. I lower Scarlett to her feet and take a step back. Her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath she takes. Her lips are swollen and red, her eyes hooded, and all I want to do is drink her in, memorize everything about this moment because everything about it is perfect. But Scarlett has other plans. She launches herself at me.
She whispers my name before her lips land on mine. Our tongues stroke each other in desperation, our hands reaching and pulling and holding on with more passion than I’ve ever felt. But if we don’t slow things down, I’m going to embarrass myself.
Pulling my mouth from hers, I skim my lips across her jaw and down the side of her neck. “Slow down, baby. We’re in no hurry.”
“I can’t slow down. I need you, Tucker.”
“You have me.”
She growls. “You know what I mean.”
I chuckle against her skin. “I never could say no to you.”
I bring my hands to her neck and slowly slide them down her shoulders, pulling her dress down until the material pools in a pile at our feet. My eyes rake over her body, devouring her as she stands before me in a strapless nude lace bra and matching panties.
“My God, you’re beautiful.”
“Tucker.”
When I look up, our eyes meet. Hers are full of hunger as she searches my face.
“Slow first, or fast? You choose, but make no mistake about it, at some point tonight, I’m taking my time and learning every inch of your body,” I declare, grazing my knuckles over her chest. My eyes follow the movement of my hand, and when I brush them along her stomach, she quivers. I trail my finger along the edge of her underwear. “What’s it going to be?”
