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“There.” I point in the general direction, past the kitchen, around the corner to the living room, where the stairs start. I might as well be pointing at the ceiling, but Wade gets it. He moves. He moves fast.
He clears the stairs in a few big strides, which is crazy because I’m clinging to him like a spider monkey. He stops at what is obviously my bedroom and walks in. He doesn’t hesitate to drop me onto the bed and basically fall right on top of me. He catches himself easily to keep from crushing me, and I keep my legs locked tightly around his waist.
We go at each other’s mouths again until I’m nearly ready to jump out of my skin. With all my rubbing and shifting and moaning, Wade gets the message. He leans off me enough that I can attack my own top. I rip my tank top over my head—rip being the keyword because I’m pretty sure it didn’t survive the onslaught—and quickly unhook my bra.
Wade’s delicious warm mouth descends to my breast. He cups it with one hand while his tongue and teeth do wicked things to my nipple. I arch up against him, wishing like hell that I didn’t have the rest of my clothes on. I wish he didn’t have his clothes on either.
He continues to tease and torture me with his mouth while his insanely coordinated hands remove his jeans. One second he has them on, and the next, it’s like they’ve vanished. He shifts away and stands over me in his boxers.
“Get these off.” I gesture at my shorts, and Wade reads my mind. He reaches for them and pulls them away, right along with my panties.
The cool air of the room hits my overheated skin, and I gasp before he even curls his arms around my legs and pulls me towards the edge of the bed. It’s still light out. The whole room is illuminated, but for once, I’m not shy about the lights. This is hot. This is so hot. Wade is so hot. And right now, it’s actually kind of nice that I get to see him push my legs open gently and bend his head. He lowers his mouth to me, and I have to stop watching because my back arches up, pushing my head back into the mattress, sheets, and quilt. My hands desperately scrabble for something—anything—to hold on to.
Wade’s mouth is amazing. It’s cool and warm all at once. He’s so gentle that I nearly scream with frustration and joy. His tongue moves over my clit, dancing away from the sensitive spot. He explores me, taking his time. He groans as he kisses and licks my clit, and then his finger is there, doing something wicked to me. I realize I’m soaking wet and so turned on that it will probably be all of two seconds before I come. I’m not sure if he wants me to come all over his face. Maybe that’s not hot. Maybe I’m too wet. Maybe…
“You’re getting tense,” Wade hums against me. “Just relax. You’re perfect. Delicious. So delicious. You put that blueberry pie to shame, and it was good.”
I flail my hands out, reaching down and digging them into his soft hair. God, it’s so soft. How can anything be so soft? “That’s—you make that sound—so dirty…” I pant.
“It’s not dirty. Unless dirty is good, then you can take it as dirty as you want.”
His tongue swirls over my clit while his finger dances near my entrance. My hips move all on their own, and before long, I’m grinding against his face.
“Maybe I’m not doing this right.” Wade takes my clit into his mouth and suckles gently. “Maybe I need some instruction from you.”
“No—no, you’re doing it right…” My fingers dig into his scalp as emphasis.
Wade’s hand brushes over me, but then disappears, to be replaced by his mouth. He lets his tongue do the exploring—wicked exploring. It sends heat waves arcing through me and makes my skin break out in goosebumps at the same time. His tongue darts inside of me, and I throw my head back, making some inhuman noises I didn’t even know I was capable of.
And then, right when I’m on the verge of an orgasm that I’m sure will not only blow my mind and rock my world, but change my life forever, I see it.
There. On the ceiling. Right above me and a few inches to the left. In all its terrible hairiness and eight-legged glory.
The spider.
CHAPTER 15
Wade
When Lu-Anne starts screaming, I’m totally mystified. I think it’s a little premature, but heck, maybe I don’t know a thing about orgasms after all. When her knees clamp around my head like a vise, and the screams escalate, I’m a little proud. I mean, I had no idea my skills were up to that level, but apparently, she’s pleased. Suddenly, the leg lock eases up, and Lu-Anne is trying to get away, which confuses me because I thought she was enjoying herself. It starts to sink in that I’ve done something seriously wrong when her knees drop away, and her legs start thrashing. I dodge, but not fast enough to avoid getting nailed in the jaw with an errant flying foot.
