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He carried her into the bathroom. ‘One blow job.’
She batted her eyelashes. ‘I see.’ Her finger-nails played in the hair at his nape and the shiver of sensation surged down his spine to bloom in his nuts. ‘I guess a deal’s a deal. But fair warning, O’Neill. I happen to be the queen of BJs. So we better wait until we’re safely horizontal before I get my mouth on that magnificent cock.’
He choked out a laugh, but the eagerness in her tone—and the thought of those full lips wrapped around his thrusting cock—made his knees weaken. When had he ever felt this good? He stumbled to a halt by the shower stall, taken aback by the dumb thought.
She grasped his shoulders. ‘Bloody hell, don’t drop me.’
He hefted her back into his arms. ‘Not a chance.’ He tightened his grip so he didn’t drop her on her butt while turning on the spray, the dumb thought forgotten.
Water sprayed out of the shower head in a cascade of sound and steam. But before he could step into the cubicle, she grasped his cheeks and planted one on him. Their tongues danced and duelled as he let her take the lead, the steam rising around them in billowing waves of heat and pheromones.
She came up for air first, her gaze as hot and steamy as the bathroom was becoming. ‘Your wish is my command, Brent. I want you to enjoy me tonight as much as I intend to enjoy you.’ She sounded genuine, sincere, the smart-ass edge gone. ‘No pressure, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in far too long. Sex-wise.’
The muscle around his heart clutched and released, but he forced himself to ignore that too. ‘Sounds like a plan.’ He stepped under the spray with her in his arms—resolving to strangle any more dumb thoughts at birth.
She shrieked and swore like a marine in a combat zone.
He gave her gorgeous ass another swat. ‘Hey, watch that potty mouth.’ Then laughed when she swore some more.
Water sluiced down the valley between her breasts, and she shoved the wet hair out of her eyes. The bubble of amusement swelled in his chest right alongside the pounding ache in his crotch. And the tidal wave of relief. Tally Gladstone was the best thing to happen to him in far too long, too. But like she’d said, it was strictly sex-wise.
Chapter Six
#NewRule: Mornings after suck... Avoid at all costs. Believe me, bed hair is the least of the disasters that await you in the cold light of day.
The scent of female flesh invaded Brent’s consciousness as he drifted out of the erotic dream and into the watery morning light. He absorbed the feel and scent of soft fragrant skin before a hard nipple poked into his roving palm. Realisation hit his groin as his eyelid cracked open to register the cloud of golden hair tickling his nostrils. The press of a round butt in his crotch had blood surging to his already aching cock.
Tally.
Hot flesh, slick and tight as it milked him; rosy lips sucking on his iron-hard erection; violet eyes peering at him through long lashes; broken sobs in that crisp tony accent that before last night had meant tea-cakes and drawing rooms, but would forever now mean down and dirty sex.
The urge to locate the plump, wet nub of her clitoris and wake her up as he eased his length into her from behind was overwhelming. But that freaky heart bump he’d noticed a couple of times during the night quickly followed.
The thought sobered him up enough to have him releasing Tally’s lush breast. He took a careful breath of her summery scent, not quite able to let her go completely.
He listened to the murmur of her breathing. Deep and even. She had to be exhausted. He’d kept her up most of the night. Just like she’d kept him up. He needed to hit the road before she woke up. It had been one hell of a night, but he needed to start thinking with his brain now instead of his dick.
But still he lay there.
He glanced down at the tent in the sheet. It would be a damn shame to waste a perfectly good morning boner.
Forget it, buddy.
Apart from those cautionary heart bumps, she’d be sore as hell, he thought, remembering how she’d flinched the last time he’d eased inside her. They’d both been too spent to do more than just lie there, his cock inside her, before they’d dropped into sleep.
His heartbeat stumbled.
Why had he done that? Why had he felt the need to maintain the physical connection before he drifted into unconsciousness?
He rolled onto his back. The weak autumn sunlight illuminated the intricate moulding on the ceiling as he contemplated dragging himself out of the warm bed and away from Tally’s lush, willing body. She snuffled and gave a muffled snort beside him before her breathing settled back into its regular rhythm—but now with a gruff murmur. He smiled.
Tally snored. Who knew?
The discovery seemed cute and endearing until it reminded him how little else he knew about her. They’d made a point of not asking and not telling last night. So why did it feel so good to finally discover something about her that didn’t involve taking her against a couch, or a wall, or in the shower? Probably just the luxury of waking up beside another human being.
But as he enjoyed the unfamiliar indulgence, it occurred to him this was the first time since his divorce he hadn’t wanted to bolt as soon as the afterglow faded.
The freaky heart bumps began to gallop under his breastbone. But he refused to overreact.
