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“So?”
“So call in tomorrow. Play hooky.”
Now she was the one who stared. She pressed her hand against his forehead. He was hot, yes, but that was to be expected after the prime ramming he’d given her. “Do you have the flu?”
“Why?” He smirked as his wandering fingers plucked at her other nipple. “You’re entitled to a day off now and then. Which you haven’t taken in months, by the way. You have sick and vacation time coming out of your very fine ears.”
She shrugged. “I don’t get sick very often.
“ She gasped when he gripped her nipple between his knuckles and twisted. That bordering-on-painful gesture felt sinfully good. “We just finished having sex. What are you doing?”
“Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to learn about foreplay.”
“It’s not fore when we’ve already fucked.”
“It is when we’re going to fuck again.”
Again, the swearing. She gaped at him, noting the fever-brightness of his eyes in the near dark. “There’s no way you can be ready.” She swallowed as she shifted on his lap and felt the thick erection lodged against her hip. “I know you don’t sleep so what’s your secret? Vitamins? Power water? Hyperbaric chamber and erection meds”
He didn’t smile. “You.”
“Are you sure it’s not that you get off seeing me suck off another guy?”
“I got off. As did you. And if you hadn’t been so into him, I’d have put my foot down before your mouth got anywhere his dick.”
“I wasn’t into him. Exactly. We…used to know each other.”
His gaze sharpened. “Who was he?”
“My first lover,” she said, surprised she could still feel sheepish when she’d just engaged in her second threesome. Sort of. Did it count if both guys didn’t penetrate? Was there a handbook for this sort of thing?
“I bet he’s seeing the error of his ways,” he muttered, his tone dark. “Too bad. He had his chance.”
Her heart fluttered. Her pussy clenched. Two reactions he seemed to coax from her effortlessly. “Spencer, I’m exhausted.”
What was he trying to do to her? Get her hooked on sex? Dependent on hearing his soft breaths against her ear, on his growing ability to know what she wanted and give it before she could ask? She was teetering on the precipice of something she couldn’t step back from, but he didn’t seem to get that. If he did, he would run far and fast.
How would he react if she told him she was in love with him? She’d tried to fight it. Hard. Maybe she was just severely infatuated. Perhaps the extra hormone boost made the situation seem more dire than it actually was.
Most likely she was losing it.
She needed to get away to think. The longer she stayed around him, the less she knew herself. Which was all well and good while the party was raging but wouldn’t be nearly so much fun when she ended up the last, lonely guest.
“I really should be getting home,” she added, since confessing her fatigue hadn’t had the desired effect. He was still caressing her, still making love to her with his destructively magnetic gaze.
“No, what you should be getting is wet.” He slipped his hand between her sticky thighs and smiled as he discovered she already was. “Making you come seems to be my new addiction,” he murmured, rotating his thumb around her clit. His finger probed her damp folds until she squirmed. “Especially when you don’t want to.”
“I always want to with you.” Wasn’t that half the problem? Her body had no reserves against him.
“Lie back.”
Saying no wasn’t an option. She rested her head on his shoulder as she propped her foot on the back of the couch, opening herself up to him. Again. His fingers played over her until her juice dripped between the cheeks of her ass and her abused clit screamed for relief. She whimpered against his neck, her lips tracing his stubbled throat. Three fingers fucked her without mercy, driving deep then sliding away every time her pussy started to spasm. Finally she could take no more. She gripped his wrist and held him still, impaling herself until she flooded his palm.
Mid-kiss, her moans spilled into his mouth. When she quivered, he ran his lips over her cheeks, her jaw, her eyelids. Reverently. As if she mattered.
Seeing the reality of her situation was the only way to kill crazy thoughts like that. Ignoring every urge that made her want to cuddle, she drew her face away. Sleep threatened to drag her under, but she forced herself to open her eyes.
But what she saw didn’t kill anything. Sometimes he stared at her—like right now—as if he were trying to peer inside her skull. What was he looking for? And would she offer it freely if she knew?
