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“Why don’t I pour a bottle of wine and I’ll introduce you to my kick-ass Nord woman in gilded armor? She’s hot.”
“Let’s do it.” I like the playful side of Harlow, so I know I’m in for an interesting night.
Then once she’s comfortable, has forgotten all about our run-in with the press, and I’ve had enough time to recuperate my mojo, I’ll have dessert of my own—and find out what she’s trying so hard to hide.
At nearly two in the morning, I set down the game controller with a groan. “I give up. You can’t kill a giant.”
“You can, but you need more stealth and better weapons. And way better armor. You kind of sucked at vampires, too. Get it?” She elbows me. “Suck?”
I roll my eyes. “I need a garlic necklace to ward off jokes like that.”
“Ha ha.”
The truth is I like Harlow’s unexpectedly goofy sense of humor and the admittedly geek side of her I’ve seen tonight. In her defense, Elder Scrolls is ahugegame, and I feel as if I’ve barely seen a quarter of the map. With a story centered around a civil war and an ancient legend coming true, I get why she’s been drawn in.
But now I’ve got something else on my mind.
I wrap my arm around Harlow and help her to her feet, then I scoop her up against my chest.
She squeals. “What are you doing?”
“I never did have my dessert, and I’ve suddenly got a sweet tooth…”
Even in the room’s low lighting, I see her flush. “I take it you don’t mean a pie I might bake in the oven.”
“Nope. You know I love to eat your pussy, baby. Let’s grab a few things along the way to make this even sweeter.” I cart her past a stack of towels folded on a table for pool and beach use, then double back to the kitchen. “Open the fridge and grab that champagne. Oh, and that bottle of chocolate sauce.”
She takes the items cautiously. “What are you going to do?”
“Feast.” I give her an unrepentant grin as I reach the pantry and search for what I want. “Pick up that jar of maraschino cherries, too.”
Harlow wraps her hand around it with a halting touch. “This sounds messy.”
“Yep, not to mention prolonged, sweaty, and dirty as hell.”
When she’s got everything in her grip, I haul her to the dining room, strip off her shirt and bra, then lay her across the table. She hisses and arches when the cool wood hits her back. I sit at the head, position the foodstuffs nearby, then grab her hips and pull her luscious ass to the edge.
I lift her skirt. “Panties?” I heave a long-suffering sigh. “I should forbid these.”
“You can’t do that. My panties are none of your business. What makes you think I’d even listen to you?”
“Don’t you want to make me happy so I can make you even happier?” I send her a sly grin as I slide the little scrap down her legs and to the floor.
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Glad you see things my way. Now spread your legs, brace your feet on the edge of the table, and lift your hips.” I take hold of the towel.
“You’re bossy tonight.”
Despite her complaint, she does it.
I smile as I slide the towel under her ass. “Occupational hazard. I was the offensive leader of my team, you know. I’m used to taking charge.” I wink her way. “And I know how to score.”
“Talk about bad jokes…” She gives me a sour expression, but I see her smile peeking through.
“Yeah, but that’s not why you like me.” I skim my fingertips down the inside of her leg, satisfied when she shudders and her breath skips. I caress her thigh as my gaze latches on to her pussy. My mouth waters. I won’t be able to keep my tongue off of her for long. “What comes next is.”
With practiced moves, I pop the champagne open and set the cork aside. The bottle fizzles over and splashes bubbly over the rim, down my fingers, then onto her sex. She gasps at the cold. I heat her up by raking my tongue between her lips and into her folds, groaning when her flavor mixes with the sweet effervescence of the champagne. But I stop short of her clit.
