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His hand slid under her shirt, easing it from the waistband of her skirt. He pushed it up and off her body, leaving her exposed, her skin pebbling.
“I never again want to talk about that knitting group or Bob and Nancy. Whoever the fuck they are.”
She giggled.
“You, however, I want to worship.” His lips settled on her neck and cruised down, skimming over the swells of her breasts above her bra.
She couldn’t stop the moan as his tongue slid under the material. While he tormented her, his large hand slid under her skirt.
“Too many clothes.” The words were rasped against her skin.
“Your dog is watching.”
“Kismet, into the lounge.” He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to the dog.
“What is that?”
“A rawhide bone.”
“Why is it in your pocket?”
“You never know when you’ll need it.”
“I like a man who’s prepared.” Autumn started on his shirt, pushing it up his body and over his head with his help. She then stared at what she’d uncovered. Ridges of muscle ran down his stomach. She trailed her fingers over the warm flesh and he shuddered, his eyes dark with heat.
“I need you naked.”
“You too.”
He swung her into his arms. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“Second on the left.”
He walked in and lowered her down his body, then reached for the buttons on her skirt while she found his zipper. When she stood before him in her bra and panties, Autumn backed up a step. It was an unconscious gesture.
“Why are you backing away from me?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. Why?” He closed the distance between them.
“I haven’t been with anyone since Ritchie’s dad. My body—”
“Is so damned perfect I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold out much longer.” He nudged her back until her legs hit the bed and she fell onto the mattress. Leaning over her, he pressed a kiss to the faint lines of her stretch marks. “I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you, Autumn. Does that scare you?”
She leaned on her elbows to look at him. “You said after that night we spent in the chair that it was wrong to kiss me.”
“I said it because this—you and me—scares the shit out of me. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“It’s the same for me.”
“Good. Glad I’m not in this alone. Now be quiet—I need to concentrate.”
He pressed her down to the mattress with a large, warm hand. She felt his fingers tugging off her panties. Then she lost the ability to think when he parted her thighs, draping them over his shoulders.
She felt his breath there, and then his wicked tongue lapped at her with long, hot strokes. It was an exquisite form of torture, and the pressure inside her grew to an almost unbearable level as he continued to lick every inch of her.
“Come for me, baby.”
