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Unable to stop, he slipped his hand inside her panties and caressed the smooth skin.
Jesus, he was losing his mind in this sweetest of escapes, but he wanted more.
He rolled his hips, and she rocked with him. Like two halves coming together to create one entity, their bodies melded. His hard, muscular angles met her soft curves in a scintillatingly sensuous motion.
But this wasn’t a demur sway.
This was what happened when longing and lust intersected, and his cock took notice.
He inhaled a tight breath. She had to be able to feel his hard length against her stomach.
The question was, what would she do about it?
As if the universe had read his thoughts, he got the answer.
She moved in closer and parted her legs as a dirty little grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. That sexy move ignited a firestorm of desire. Hot and unrelenting, it invaded every cell in his body as raw need took over.
She brought the lollipop to her mouth, held his gaze, parted her lips, then…yep, she sucked it.
Hard.
God help him.
He leaned forward, allowing his breath to warm her earlobe. “Do I get a taste?”
“Is that all you want?” she tossed back. She put up a tough front, but she trembled in his arms as she spoke the words. That tiny glimpse of vulnerability touched a part of him he hadn’t felt in years.
What did he want?
It didn’t feel like they were talking about candy anymore.
His heart was ready to beat itself out of his chest. Questions came at him faster than he could process them, but each boiled down to one central query.
Who was Harper Presley beneath the sassy exterior?
She pulled the sucker from her mouth and licked her lips. Her mask was back in place, and the raw vulnerability he’d observed had disappeared behind a beguiling twist of a smile.
“You can have a taste,” she said, teasing him with the lollipop.
“What flavor is it?” he asked, tightening his grip on her supple backside.
She moistened her lips and hummed a sexy little sound. “Cherry.”
That was all he could take.
He plucked the lollipop from her hand, then dropped it.
In the blink of an eye, she looked ready to punch his lights out. “What did you do that for? I was—” she protested, but he didn’t give her a chance to finish.
He didn’t want to lick her lollipop. He wanted to lickher.
Like a man driven to do nothing else, he silenced her with a kiss. Their lips met in a crush of cherry bliss. It was like coming apart and being put back together in one spiraling sensation. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, indulging in the sweet salvation. Soft and warm, her mouth welcomed his kisses. Exhilaration built between them, and each kiss led to another and another.
He was right to trash the candy. He’d take locking lips with Harper Presley over sucking on a lollipop any day of the week.
Wait!
He was kissing Harper Presley—and he liked it.
