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“Yes, I am.” She grinned deviously.
“Ahhh, babe,” he said in a gruff voice, his breath coming in heavy pulls. “You know thigh-high stockings drive me wild.”
It was a fetish he’d developed the first time she’d dared to wear them. About five years ago when she’d met up with him in Bristol, Connecticut, following an interview at ESPN’s primary studios.
She told him, “Paris has amazing lingerie shops. I raided several of them. Bought garters, too. For extremely special occasions.” She gave him a suggestive look.
He let out another strangled, sexually frustrated sound. She was revving him up. That was good. So very, very good.
His fingers brushed back and forth over the edge of the lace and her bare skin. Teasing her. Making heat flare within her and hitching her breath. Then his hand shifted and slightly grazed the lacy triangle covering the heart of her.
Her body jolted. Every inch of her went up in flames.
Scout’s lips skimmed over her cheekbone, along her temple. His fingers eased behind the flimsy material of her thong.
He stroked slowly.
Ciara’s grip on his powerful biceps tightened.
“You’re already wet for me,” he whispered.
&n
bsp; “Impossible not to be.”
His touch was light and feathery against her sensitive flesh. Arousing her deeply. Making her burn for him.
He kissed her softly. Her eyelids drifted closed. The pad of his finger fluttered over the knot of nerves between her legs. A low moan escaped her.
“Babe,” Scout murmured against her lips. “I need to make you come.”
Chapter Five
She gasped. Scout felt her body tense.
The pads of two fingers massaged the little pearl and her breathing quickened. Her skin was dewy with her excitement, her anticipation, and he longed to taste her. To ease to his knees before her and drag her panties down her legs. Dip his head and sweep his tongue along her slick folds.
But that would lead to so much more. Once he got started with this woman, it was damn near impossible to stop. And he was currently taking her away from her big debut as hostess of the sponsors’ dinner.
Yet… He couldn’t just kiss her and feel her velvety skin against his fingers and listen to her sexy, broken breaths. No. He really did need to make her come. Had to feel her tremble in his arms, hear her soft cries, and know he’d brought her intense pleasure.
“You have just the right touch,” she assured him as her hips rolled slightly. Her fingers deftly loosened his tie at his throat and then she slipped the first two buttons through their holes.
“Thanks. Though that doesn’t make me breathe any easier.” How could he, when her hands returned to his biceps and she gripped him firmly, holding him to her? Her tawny eyes burned with fire and lust. Other emotions, as well, all of which he was certain he could dissect, if he weren’t so caught up in the fire and the lust.
His head lowered to hers and he kissed her passionately just as his finger worked carefully into her tight canal. She momentarily ripped her mouth from his, let out a throaty moan, clutched his finger with her inner muscles, and then sealed her mouth to his. Scout kissed her with complete abandon, no doubt conveying every ounce of desire and admiration he had for her. His need for her. His constant craving for her.
He stroked her a bit more aggressively and her hips matched his movements, his cadence. One of her hands slid up the nape of his neck and her fingers twisted in the hair at his collar. The other hand continued to clench his upper arm, her nails biting into his muscles through his shirt. He didn’t care. When she was losing herself in the moment was what mattered the most to him.
He eased in a second finger. Pumped steadily. Felt the tremors run down her spine.
Scout’s cock thickened and his lungs burned. His breath was scarce and his body screamed for his own release, but his sole focus was on Ciara. This beautiful, soul-stirring creature he could never, ever get enough of. No matter how many years they’d been together. No matter how many times they’d been wrapped up in each other like this. He could never get enough.
In between kisses so that they could try to keep some oxygen flowing, she whispered, “I want to rip your shirt open. I want to touch you. I want to feel every inch of you against me, naked and hard.”
“You’ve definitely got me hard.”
“Scout,” she said in a hungry tone. “It’s been too long. We should never go this long without each other.”
