Page 67 of Not On the Agenda


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“Iwantedtokissyou the first night I met you,” I confessed, my gut burning with need. “It was so hard to leave without kissing you.”

Her breathy giggles flitted through me, and my blood turned effervescent.

“And yet,” she whispered, her hands cupping my breasts, “you’re still talking instead of taking my clothes off.”

I groaned, arching my neck back as her lips drifted over my jaw and down my throat.

“You’re not exactly wearing much,” I countered, but I was so helplessly pliable beneath her touch, so eager to do what she wanted.Bewhat she wanted.

She chuckled quietly and pulled away, her eyes boring into mine, burnished bronze almost.

She crossed her arms, her fingers curled around the hem of her dress, and tugged the fabric off. It took a little shimmying but I was paralyzed with each delicious inch of skin she exposed. It fell to the floor but every sane thought that fought for control shriveled into nothing.

Frankie was…

Ethereal.

Freckles scattered across her pale skin like a hundred constellations, her breasts kissed here and there with darker freckles. Her torso tapered into her slim waist and flared out over her hips and, God damn it, I would not survive this woman.

Her kiss-swollen lips kicked into a smirk and she grabbed my hands, guiding them to her breasts, her nipples peaked between my thumbs and forefingers.

“Jesus,” I breathed, entranced by the soft pink of her nipples. “I just need to-”

I didn’t let myself finish but leaned forward, pulling a nipple between my lips and letting my teeth gently scrape over the hardened bud until she whimpered.

Her hips rolled upward, her thighs widening around mine. Swirling my tongue around her nipple, I dropped a hand to her hip, pinning her in place while I wedged one of my thighs between hers.

“Oh God,” she murmured, her hips kicking up to grind against my thigh.

Her hands fumbled for the silk shirt that I still wore and I happily let her tear it off my shoulders. Her fingers hooked into the thin lace of my bra and yanked the material down.

My breasts spilled out of my bra and I couldn’t help the startled giggle that slipped from my lips.

“Eager,” I murmured.

Her hands curled into my hair and pulled me back to her face, her lips crushing against mine.

If I had a choice, I’d happily kiss her until my very last breath, but she bent her knee, driving the taut muscle of her thigh right into my clit and Iwhined.

“Oh, I like that sound.” She giggled, her palms flattening over the curve of my ass and pushing me down over her thigh.

The drag of her bare thigh over the laughably thin silk of my pants did nothing to keep me sane.

“Take these off.” She pouted, her fingers tugging at the waistband of my pants.

I’d have stolen the moon out of the sky right then and there if she’d asked.

It was a clumsy, giggle-fueled striptease that held none of the grace and seduction she deserved, but any niggling insecurity went silent as she tugged her thong off, lifting her ass to drag it down her legs.

I pressed my body to her bare, heated skin, her hand wedged between my thighs the moment she captured my lips for another searing kiss.

“Frankie,Jesus,” I breathed.

She hummed into my mouth, her fingers circling my clit and teasing the entrance.

“Can’t blame me,” she said, breathless and drunk with desire. She slipped her middle and ring fingers inside me, curling gently until her thumb pressed into the oversensitive bundle of nerves.

My body turned boneless. It was all I could do to keep my body weight above her on my elbows, my legs widening with each languorous, lazy stroke. Again, she bent her knee, resting the outside of her hand on her thigh and bucking her fingers deeper.

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