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Eleven
Presley didn’t make it two steps into Cash’s house before her purse was taken from her hands, her back was pressed against the closed front door and her mouth was covered with his.
She reacted the way any red-blooded woman would, by wrapping her arms around his neck and accepting his tongue into her mouth. The kiss had the urgency of the one in the elevator, but none of the haste. As he proved a moment later when his hand tightened at her lower back and he slowed down.
Way down.
His lips moved over hers in a soft, rhythmic way before they moved to her neck and oh yes, that was so much better. She arched her back and closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of his hands on her waist and the scruff of his jaw scraping the sensitive skin of her throat.
“You smell good.” His voice was a low rumble. She’d always loved that deep baritone. It made her feel safe and it made her feel sexy, especially right before he nibbled on her earlobe.
When he backed away, her hair clung to his cheek. She liked seeing it there, the red strands mingling with his short, dark facial hair. His eyelids were low, his full mouth damp. He was so hot it was criminal.
“I see you decided to let me seduce you.” A cocky grin slid across his mouth and she couldn’t help smiling back at him. She hooked a finger into his belt loop and tugged him closer. His hips bumped hers, the sturdy ridge of his erection evident and tempting.
“What base are we stoppin’ at tonight, Pres?” he murmured as his hands climbed her torso. He paused on her rib cage, just shy of cupping her breasts.
“Home run, cowboy,” she breathed, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She felt a lot of other things. Jittery and excited. Impatient and willing.
After he’d left her in Florida, she’d cried her heart out. She’d also kicked her own rear end around campus for saving her precious virginity instead of sleeping with him while she could have. A year later she’d gifted her V-card to a guy in her Advanced Writing 202 class and had been as underwhelmed as she’d expected. He was nice enough, but she hadn’t cared about him the way she’d cared about Cash.
The out-of-place memory made her sad and Cash, who was close enough to see straight through to her soul, noticed. His eyes flashed with concern and his mouth pulled into a loose frown.
No way would she let the past ruin this moment. “I’m not letting you escape this time,” she said and then she kissed him hard enough that he’d forget what he saw.
It worked. The next words out of his mouth were, “Climb your sweet ass up the stairs and go to my room.”
Liking his bossy side way too much, she turned and scurried for the stairs, her borrowed heels clicking along the way to the top. He caught her easily, linking their hands and leading her to his room.
She looked down at their arms, his deeply tanned skin and thick, calloused fingers looped with her smaller, paler fingers.
What are you doing?
Years ago, he’d broken her heart. It was big and it was unresolved. She’d sworn she wouldn’t allow herself to be towed in by his magnetism when she began this assignment. So why wasn’t she saying good-night instead of following him to his room?
Because.
She’d missed out on him once. She wouldn’t miss out again.
What happened tonight would be a gift she gave her past self. And her present self. Her future self would have to learn to live without him, but she’d done it once. She could do it again.
At the entrance to his bedroom, he paused, leaned on the doorframe and gripped her hips with his palms. Those palms slid up her dress until they reached her breasts, but this time, he held them and drew his thumbs over her nipples. Without a bra, they leaped to attention. Then he moved those rough-feeling hands over her beaded dress and around, undoing the zipper at the back. When the front sagged, he tugged her top down and exposed her, his eyes going black as his widening pupils ate up the caramel brown of his irises.
She’d always loved when he touched her bare breasts. Her nipples were sensitive and currently shooting a zillion electrical charges straight to the apex of her thighs. Her breathing sped up and her fists clenched helplessly at his button-down shirt.
“Some things haven’t changed. I know what you like.”
Proving it, he dipped his head and took her nipple on his tongue. Slowly, he circled the tender bud as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Her hands relocated to his head, where she gave his thick hair a tug. He gently bit and then soothed her with his tongue.
After a few breathless moments of bliss, he backed her into the dark room, his mouth never leaving her breast. Then she was in the air, being tossed onto the bed. He climbed over top of her, his dark head lowering to her other breast, his finger plucking the nipple he’d rendered both damp and turgid. Her hips rose and fell, mimicking what she wanted most. Cash seemed content to make her wait.
Finally, he guided his hand up her skirt, fisted her lacy underwear and rolled them down her legs. There was a frustrating moment where they became tangled with her shoes, which he insisted she keep on. Since he insisted while sliding his fingers up her inner thigh, she decided not to argue.
He stroked into her and, wet and ready, she easily accepted his finger. His tongue went back to work on her breast, sucking and pulling while his thumb joined the action, stroking her clit. She jolted and felt his smile against her skin. He knew what she liked, all right.
They hadn’t had sex years ago, but he’d made it his personal mission to find a way around her rules. He’d found all the loopholes—and had managed to gift her the best orgasms of her life. She’d given herself several since, sometimes imagining his fingers between her legs, his mouth on her breast, but those imaginings paled in comparison with the real Cash Sutherland.
“Come for my fingers and I’ll give you my mouth,” he murmured against her nipple as she shook in his arms.
