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A seductive suggestion lingered in the air between them and Liv was immediately fixated on everything Nate had done to her in Paris, every way he’d made her come, and how she truly hadn’t gotten enough of him—or his brother . . .
Chapter Five
Damn it, she was still attempting to sort out her feelings and gauge this situation of Nate and Tristan being in such close proximity for two weeks—along with the fact that she’d be more geographically aligned with them when they returned to England and she decided on a band.
All things considered, Liv wasn’t quite prepared for yet another rush of desire through her body. A wave of lust that was as intense and taunting as the sensations she’d experienced when just chatting on the phone with Tristan. As vibrant as when she’d seen them both at the yacht club.
But the exhilaration trilled through her again. Especially as Nate’s fingertips pressed into her hips in an erotically expressive way. His breath was warm and tantalizing against her neck. The scent of sandalwood from his cologne and his natural heat infiltrated every nook and cranny within her. The feel of his rigid angles conforming to her softer curves was sublime, and all she could think about was him stripping her bare and sliding into her from behind.
Despite not fully having her feet beneath her with their intimate scenario, she couldn’t stop the instantaneous flashfire.
She said, “I really do need to get out of these wet clothes.”
His lips glided along her throat as he told her, “I can certainly assist with that.”
“I’d be very appreciative.” And there she went, breaking the seal on that can of worms. She simply couldn’t help herself.
His hands shifted, easing up her back to her shoulders. His fingers curled into the material there and he dragged the sweater down her arms and tossed it onto the wooden work table in front of her. Then he gripped the hem of her tank and pulled it over her head, adding it to the pile.
“I should get some damp paper towels and clean myself up,” she muttered vaguely as her pulse drummed in her ears, in her veins, between her legs.
“Why don’t I just lick it off you? I smell cinnamon.”
“Iced skinny cinnamon dolce latte,” she said on a wisp of breath. “Quite tasty.”
“Then we shouldn’t let it go to waste.” He turned her to face him.
Liv gazed up into his grass-green eyes and liked the sexy invitation in them, to hell with all her unanswered questions and theories on celestial orchestrations that shouldn’t be tampered with.
She said, “It wouldn’t be neighborly of me to get any of my coffee on your shirt. We should probably take it off.”
“Definitely.”
Liv worked the buttons and then quickly divested him of the black material that went with his obsidian jeans.
“You’re very Dark Lord these days,” she teased lightly. “All edgy and mysterious and . . . hot.”
Her fingernails skated over his cut abs, the grooves rippling under her touch. Her hands eased upward and she splayed her palms across his defined pectoral ledge, her thumbs grazing his small nipples. Back and forth until they pebbled.
Nate’s head bent to hers and he said, “You turn me on like nothing I’ve ever known before.”
Her hands skimmed higher, along his corded throat, the veins pulsing against her skin. Her fingers threaded his lush hair and her lips brushed his as she said, “To quote one of my favorite actresses via her character . . . ‘I’m a sure thing.’”
Liv wanted him. More than Julia Roberts had ever wanted Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.
Nate’s gaze smoldered as he told her, “I remember exactly how you felt. Beneath me. On top of me . . . Squeezing my cock with your tight pussy until I couldn’t take any more . . .”
Her soft gasp filled the otherwise quiet room.
“I get off thinking about you sucking my dick, or screaming my name when I made you come.”
Excitement shot through Liv. Her nipples puckered and her clit tingled. “I had more orgasms that
night than I could possibly count.”
“You were so damn wet . . .”
“I’m wet now,” she whispered, then nipped his bottom lip. “So wet.”
