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I melted into him, parting my lips as his tongue swirled its way into my mouth. It was sweet and wonderful. Tasting of man and masculinity and the bottle of beer he’d set down on the counter when I offered to show him how to properly chop an onion.
Wow…
I put one hand on his chest, feeling the raw strength and power there. As my fingers teased their way between the buttons of his perfectly-tailored shirt, my other hand came up to caress the scruff of his chiseled, angular jaw.
God, he was perfect! So perfect I almost couldn’t believe it. And I was actually kissing him. Standing in his kitchen, making out with him savagely
while his hands — which were only moments ago on my hips — slid their way downward over the smooth curve of my ass.
I’d wanted him for so long. Hell, I’d wanted them all really, they were all so incredibly good-looking! I’d been cooking for them for half a year now; six torturous months of prepping weekly meals while they walked casually in and out of the kitchen…
And they’ve been teasing you, Kayleen. You know that, right?
It sure seemed that way. Sometimes they’d emerge from their home gym, all tank-tops and sweat and grins. Other times they’d come shirtless, straight out of the shower. They’d strike up pleasant conversations here and there, while pretending to look for food, or snacks, or water.
Still, no one made an actual move on me, and that part didn’t make sense at all. Three gorgeous men, sharing the same secluded Spanish-style villa. Three men who were almost always at home and around each other, making it difficult to be alone with any single one of them.
It was Chase who’d eventually begun flirting with me outright. It started off small, a few smiles and compliments here and there. He’d appear often, his green eyes flashing dangerously as I stared at his broad shoulders, his massive arms. He started hanging around the kitchen every Monday, on the regular. Taking more and more interest in what I was doing.
And now…
Well, now it would be Chase, getting the prize.
We were making out like teenagers at the moment, our hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies. It almost felt forbidden, after all this time. To be finally touching something that had been so close, yet so mouthwateringly out of reach, for so many months.
And the best part…
The best part was that right now, no one else was home. The others were gone. Out. See ya later.
Right now it was all Chase… and me.
“Took you long enough,” I teased, when our lips finally broke apart.
He stared down at me and chuckled. “What’s that they say about good things coming to those who wait?”
“No fucking clue,” I sighed dreamily. Boldly I slid one hand up along the inside of his thigh. “But the early bird?”
I closed my hand over his crotch. There was already a significant bulge there, as I squeezed gently.
“Definitely gets the worm.”
Yeah, I was a little forward. And randy. And forward. But the way I saw things, our encounter had been a long time in coming. The obvious breaking point for all our building sexual tension. The culmination of a long, silent courtship.
That, plus you’re horny as hell.
I sure couldn’t argue there. My last serious boyfriend had been almost a year ago. And I hadn’t hooked up with Roger or Dante — my two favorite friends with benefits — in way, way too long.
“So are you going to show me which room is yours?” I purred, pulling him toward the elaborate tiled hallway.
Chase followed only semi-reluctantly, with just enough hesitation to give the illusion of resistance. His grin still betrayed him though. “You know which room is mine.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never seen it from the inside.”
His perfect jaw flexed, but I could see the excitement building. Our eyes were also doing the same thing: drifting freely over each other’s bodies. It was almost as if a wall had come down, like some sort of license had finally been granted to us. Five minutes ago, this kind of gawking would’ve been borderline inappropriate. But now…
“You’re in for it,” Chase growled, sweeping me into him again. His grip was strong and commanding and, let’s face it, made me more than a little bit wet. “You know that?”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
