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Speaking against my lips, he still manages to remind me, “A good guy would—”
I shove my tongue in farther to shut him up again then pull it out and bite his lip.
Our eyes meet in that small battle, my teeth still trapping his mouth when I answer, “Good thing you’re a bad guy. then.”
Apparently, that’s all I needed to say, his will to resist gone and his body coming to life above me.
Reaching behind his head, he pulls his shirt off, both our bodies twisting so he can get it free, my palms finding his stomach and tracing the chiseled plane of his abs as he tosses the shirt off the bed.
Shane looks down at me, and I swear if he opens that mouth to do anything but kiss me, I’ll lose my fucking mind.
We’re staring each other down, him searching my face, my expression becoming the best damn glare I can manage.
Then he smiles. “I love it when you—”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
“Damn. Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s the best answer,” I say, pushing my head up so I can kiss the line of his jaw. “For everything.”
He squeezes my wrists where he holds them in place, the bones moving just slightly with a sharp second of pain.
It somehow makes me want him more.
“Won’t happen when this is over,” is his growled response He traps both wrists with one hand then uses the other to start tugging up my shirt.
My T-shirt rips from how desperate he is to remove it, a laugh escaping my throat to think it’s not much of a loss.
Let him rip it all off.
Shred it, for all I care.
Just as long as he makes this mistake worth it.
Making quick work of my jeans, he unbuttons and shoves them down, allowing me to kick them off, desperate to be rid of the barrier.
Skin to skin except for my bra and panties, Shane releases my hands to plant his on either side of me. He pushes up to study my body
It’s like he’s memorizing every detail, a mesmerized tourist staring at a wonder of the world.
“So that’s what you look like. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“I knew it.”
His heated stare meets mine. “Knew what?”
“I knew there were moments you were undressing me with your eyes.”
The corner of his lips pull into a grin. “Only when you get mouthy and glare at me.”
“What?”
He kisses me again, barely giving me the time to get the one word out, his hands running down my sides to take hold of my hips.
When he grips down, my head tips back, my back arching as the nerve endings come to life, a direct line of sensation down between my legs. It’s an electric shock, but one of pleasure instead of pain.
My entire body feels primed already, but this man has barely started as he kisses a slow trail down the center of my chest, teasing the skin with his tongue and the rough abrasion of the stubble on his chin and cheeks.
