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“Stop! Are you kidding?” She took the bottle and read the label for herself. Then she dug through the crinkle paper tucked around the products and held them up one by one. “A sleep mask, tea, a pocket massager. Exfoliating facial masks... What on earth did she expect me to do with these?”
“I instantly have a hundred and one ideas.” Every last one of them involved Rylee out of that dress and in his arms.
She fiddled with the elastic band on the black silk sleep mask. He half expected her to fling it at him, or playfully punch his arm. Instead, she stepped closer to him, invading his space with her soft floral sent and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
“Well?” She hoisted an eyebrow. A dare. He recognized this version of Rylee from their first kiss. And so, he threw her words back at her.
“What am I waiting for?”
“Exactly,” she whispered.
Hand on the back of her neck, he towed her in. Unlike the kiss at the tapas bar, he didn’t have to be polite. Without an audience, there was no need to cut the kiss short. He took his time, molding his lips to the shape of hers, drinking her in—an attempt to slake his thirst for her.
Not possible.But he was going to try.
She kissed him back, pressing her body to his, her breasts bumping his chest. He cupped her butt with one hand and gave the cheek a squeeze and she instinctively tipped her hips forward. She couldn’t think of anything except how she wanted every part of him touching every part of her.
He smiled down at her. “Peaches.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’d never.” He dove back in and lit her on fire. His warm wet tongue stroked hers and she clinched her thighs. Partially to assuage the throbbing there. She had yet to stop imagining his mouth on her body. Onevery partof her body.
She wasn’t typically plagued with sexual or even romantic fantasies. While she’d had a coffee date here or there, none of those dates had prompted the idea of a second. And the kisses, with Louis and since, had been forgettable. A blur of gray.
There was nothing “gray” about Trick. He was fiery red and burnished orange, sunny yellow... She was awash in summery tones as heat saturated her bloodstream. His tongue stroked hers, and she emitted a helpless whimper.
He tightened his hold on her ass and pressed her hips to his. They lined up too well. His hardness, her softness. The levity dancing in his dark eyes had shifted to molten desire. He watched her from beneath drowsy lids as he said, “Give me the mask.”
She’d forgotten she was holding the sleep mask. Black silk with a tiny diamond star in one corner. He took it from her and then reached for her hair clip, letting her fair hair fall into loose waves. Then he covered her eyes with the mask.
She felt his breath against her lips when he invited, “Ready to have some fun?”
“Overdue,” she breathed, only half joking but pleased when she heard his raspy laugh.
“God, I hear you.”
She assumed his dry spell wasn’t as kindling-like as her own. Ever since she’d dared him to kiss her today, she’d been justifying to herself that it was okay to like him. More out of habit than anything else. No one had demanded she explain herself. Hell, Dee had practically told her to go for it after her own opposites-attract love story had turned out so well.
Which wasnotwhat this was about with Patrick, Rylee reminded herself. He was from an entirely different world than she was. She was in no danger of falling in love with him. Trick was a good-time guy, and he was willing to have a good time with her. For once she didn’t want to plan and overthink.
He grasped her hand and lead her in the direction of the bedroom before backtracking to rifle through the box she’d opened.
“We’re going to need some of this stuff,” he said. “Hell, maybe all of it.”
Her heart thrashed excitedly as he walked her from the suite to the bedroom. She felt heat emanating from his body when came around to stand before her. She heard him toss the box aside.
“Changed my mind.” He removed her mask. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room. “I want to see those blues.”
He kissed her again, but his hands didn’t stay in one place. They roamed, down her ribs and up again, where they cupped her breasts as his thumbs played over her nipples. They were peaked to the point of pain, begging to be free from the bra she’d worn for way too long today. As if in answer to her silent request, he drew down the zipper of her dress. Inch by agonizing inch, he opened the back of the garment and then smoothed the sleeves off her shoulders. His lips left hers to place a soft kiss on the top of one shoulder, and then he flicked open the front clasp of her bra.
“Tell me your nipples are peach-colored too and I’ll die a happy man.” He parted the material of her bra and cupped her generous D-cups with his palms. “Goddamn, Rylee. You are so fucking beautiful.”
He suckled one nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue as his fingers plucked the other. She gripped a handful of his thick hair, arching her back in response to the sharp pleasure spiking between her legs.
He raised his head, barely giving her a chance to take a breath before he lowered his mouth to the other nipple and sent her on a repeat journey.
“I knew you’d taste good everywhere.” He freed her from the bra straps and then dropped her dress to the floor. On his knees in front of her, he took her shoes off one by one. “To be sure, though, I have more exploring to do.”
