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She took a long drink from her glass, stepped forward until her thighs, belly, and chest brushed against the front of him. With those damn slumberous blue eyes on his, she brushed her lips over his chin then up to his mouth. “How about this then. What did you want to be when you grew up, Vance?”
“Whatever profession is your perfect fantasy.”
Her teeth flashed in the glow of the half-moon filling the sky. “Is that so?”
He curled his fingers into the belt loops of her shorts and dragged her closer. He wanted her flush against him and those long legs wrapped around him. Christ, he just wanted her to be his.
Even just for a night if that was all he was going to get.
He sipped from her mouth, tasting the blackberry and spice of the dry wine. But under that was Presley. Hot, open, giving—all the things he’d been looking for and didn’t think he’d ever find.
Not at a damn football game anyway.
Long, slow kisses managed to find their way into the mix, but the woman had the uncanny ability to toss him off his stride. From the moment he’d seen her he’d been off-balance.
Her long fingers slipped into his hair, dragging him closer until he couldn’t think about getting her inside. Only now. Only this moment that couldn’t have been more perfect.
He set their glasses on the small table next to the lonely Adirondack chair he’d put down there for sunsets and quiet nights when he needed the sounds of the water to quiet his mind.
That would be ruined now.
This was her space now, would always be her space no matter what happened. He lifted her up and sat down in the chair with her astride him. Her knees slid right down into the angled seat leaving her flush to his straining cock.
She made that moan-sigh combo against his mouth that was quickly becoming his favorite sound. At least until he heard her come. He had a feeling that would trump all other sounds.
He wanted to hear it so much that he flipped the button of her shorts open and buried his hands under the fabric, cupping the curve of each cheek to grind her down against him in time with each roll of her hips. Light spilled around her from his patio creating a halo around her.
“Is it wrong to want you here?”
She curled her arms around his neck. “I’ve never wanted to have sex outside.”
He leaned back, his hands sliding over her waist to the front of her shorts, peeling the zipper open to expose a flat stomach. A tiny purple teardrop jewel hung from her belly button. He traced the jewel, his abs clenching when she shivered.
She pushed at his shirt. “I need to see you.”
“God, yes.”
He reached behind his head to help her and his T-shirt landed on the half-wall. Her fingers went directly to the right pectoral muscle that held most of his tattoo. Her eyes glittered in the dark, soaking him up with absolutely no shyness. She stroked over his skin, her nails flicking over his nipple before coasting around the design that circled the flat disk.
She leaned into him, her mouth hot on his skin, her teeth and tongue taking special care at the lines of his ink. She touched him everywhere. Wide-spread fingers cruising over his shoulders, his arms and biceps, and then to the shadows of his pecs and belly. If that wasn’t enough to kill him, she followed it up with a thorough exploration with her mouth.
By the time her nails scraped through the line of hair at his navel, he was ready to demand mercy. But he didn’t want to stop her. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s touch was as stimulating as burying his cock inside her willing body.
He pushed her T-shirt up when she finally sat back on his thighs. She started to shrug out of his shirt when he stopped her. “Just your shirt. Leave mine on.”
Her eyes darkened as her arms disappeared into her shirt and she wiggled it up. He held onto his shirt as it fell to her hips when her back arched to get rid of the cotton tee. He skimmed kisses along her belly and ribs, up to her bra. The cups barely contained her curves. Blush pink lace matched her nipples that peeked from the edge just enough for his mouth to cover one tip.Thin gold chains gleamed against her skin in the moonlight, the tiny charms shifting and catching the low light.
He drew her arms back into the sleeves and covered her back even as he feasted on her front. She held onto his shoulders, her eyes mere slits as her head fell back.
Her skin had cooled with the breeze off the water, her nipples tight and distracting as fuck. He cupped her breasts, plumping them over the fragile cups until the water-soft flesh spilled against his chin. “Oh, Goldie.” Could anything be more perfect?
Her nails bit into his shoulders as he went from one nipple to the other, sucking them into his mouth until she shifted against him restlessly. He wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to keep going this slow.
Not when she moved like that.
Not when he wanted her this bad.
She flattened both hands against his chest and pushed off of him. His hands tightened on her waist, but she stepped off the chair. He swallowed. “Do you want to stop?”
