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“I own a plane,” he reminds me, mouth curving in a grin. “You’re gonna have to give me something better than that.”
Dammit.“You’re a bad boy.” There I said it.
“Yeah, about that.” He squints his eyes, as though thinking. “What exactly does that stereotype mean? Is it the ripped jeans and boots? Because I can always borrow a pair of Maddox’s cargo pants. Or one of Dash’s navy suits? Would that read less bad boy?”
“You’re making fun of me.” I cross my arms over my chest and a deep laugh rumbles from him.
“I’m curious, though. Seriously. Why do you have me pegged as a mistake before you’ve even given us a chance?”
When he says it that way, all serious and with puppy dog eyes, I feel bad. “I’m protecting myself. Can we please drop it?”
He studies me a moment longer and I think he wants to say more on the subject, but he doesn’t. “Something else you’d rather do?” he asks suggestively.
My eyebrows shoot up, and when I glance down, I see he’s already getting hard again. “Someone has quite the stamina.”
He gives me a wicked grin then pounces, moving on top of me, grabbing my hands and pinning them down to the mattress. “You have no idea,” he murmurs, then kisses me until I’m whimpering and needy all over again.
Orgasm #3, here we come.
???
It’s bad enough that I had sex with Eric twice. But it’s really hard for me to justify a third and then a fourth time. Holy hell, the man can go for hours and we spend the rest of the night exploring each other’s bodies and finding out what the other likes best.
I discover that he has a sensitive spot behind his ear and every time I kiss there, he moans and groans like crazy. He finds out I’m ticklish because every time his hands slide down my side, I jump with a yelp and twist away.
We’re both fast, eager learners and I lose track of the number of times he makes me come. With his mouth, his tongue, his fingers and his cock. No previous lover I’ve been with has ever taken the time to figure out exactly what I like and then apply it until I’m a shaking, screaming mess. They were more love ‘em and leave ‘em types.
I used to think the exact same thing about Eric, but if that were the case then why take the time to make sure I’m satisfied?
He’s just a good lover,I tell myself, trying not to read into it too much. I guess I just didn’t expect the amount of consideration he’s shown me. Like the way he always takes care of me before satisfying his own needs.Talk about a first.
A girl could definitely get spoiled after spending a few nights in Eric Finn’s bed.
By the time morning comes, I’m still tired and a little worn out from our exertions. Twice throughout the night, he tried to pull me close and cuddle, but I kept my distance and then explained to him that I don’t cuddle.Never have, never will.He didn’t try again.
My eyes flutter open and even though we’re not cuddling and he gave me the space I needed, I feel his warm hand. Turning my head, I see that he’s holding my hand and our fingers are threaded. A sweet warmth fills me and I study our joined hands for a long time.
I’m not exactly sure how I feel about it but, if I’m being honest, I like it more than I should. I’ve always wanted a man to hold my hand like this and suddenly the sting of hot tears threatens. Turning my head, blinking the wetness away, I focus on figuring out what I’m going to do about this situation. It would be easy to succumb to his charms and just have a good time while I’m hiding out here.
But when the bad guys are caught and it’s time for me to go back home, will I be able to let all this go and not look back?
Will I be able to let Eric go?
I let out a soft sigh and beside me, Eric begins to wake up. Here it comes. That awkward moment when neither of us knows what to say and regrets fill the silence between us.
“Morning, sweetness,” he murmurs then reels my hand in and brushes my knuckles with a kiss.
I force myself to look over at him, not really knowing what to expect. But he looks completely at ease and not uncomfortable in the least. He gives me a crooked grin then lets go of my hand and stretches like a big, lazy feline with a loud grunt of satisfaction.
“Morning,” I say softly. Mornings and cuddling are the two things I’ve never been completely comfortable with, but Eric is making this easier than it’s ever been before.
After stretching, he rolls onto his side and flashes a dazzling, white smile at me. “Did you sleep okay?” he asks, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
I’m a little at a loss for words, so I merely nod.
“Good. Me, too. How about some coffee? And then you can explain your no-cuddling rule because, sweetness, I hate to break it to you, but I’m a cuddler.”
Before I can respond, he gives me another megawatt grin and slides out of bed. I press my lips and thighs together as my gaze takes in all that glorious male nakedness. So lean and muscled. “How’s your leg?” I ask.
