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A breath hissed audibly out of my mouth. Holy fuck, she was beautiful. Her breasts were high and tight and beautiful. Dark pink, puckered nipples. Shoulders proudly back. Gorgeously strong, lithe, and graceful. The body of a pro athlete, except for one puckered scar near her collarbone. He’d seen too many of those to mistake it.
That was a scar from a bullet.
“You’re really going for it,” I commented. “Maybe slow down a tiny bit?”
A smile flitted across her face. “Nope,” she said. “I could lose my nerve.”
She leaned down to loosen the laces of her athletic shoes, then pried them off, along with the socks. Tossed then in the direction of the other garments. Leaving her clad in only the soft black trousers that Freya left at every dwelling she frequented. Her favorites. They were as soft as yoga pants, but as classy as business pants. They looked great on Kat. Looser than they were on Frey, so they hung a little lower, showing off the sexy curves at her belly, the dip of her waist, the jut of her hipbone.
Then she yanked them down too, along with her underwear.
Her naked body was so perfect, it was an assault on my eyes. Standing there, chin up, eyes brilliant with defiance. As if she were challenging me to a duel, not seducing me.
She made an impatient gesture. “So? Let’s see what you’ve got, pretty boy.”
Pretty boy?I swallowed a bark of laughter that I strongly sensed would not help my cause, pried off my shoes, and whipped off my sweatshirt. “Is that better?”
“Almost. If you keep at it, we’ll get there eventually.”
I undid my belt. Shoved down my jeans, and kicked them away. My cock jutted out, hard and heavy and urgent-looking. It was a little too soon in this seduction to be waving my dick at her, but she’d forced my hand. I could see her gaze linger on my scars, just as mine had landed on hers. The gut shot that had ended my Amy Rangers career. But I hadn’t commented, and she didn’t either.
Her blatant appreciation looked absolutely unfeigned. “Well, look at that,” she said. “I am completely unsurprised. Both that you’ve got a killer body, and that you’ve got a big, gorgeous dick. Hey, you do have latex, don’t you?”
“Of course, but we can slow down a little,” I told her.
“I don’t want to slow down,” she said. “You look like you’re up for it.”
“God, yes. Of course I am. But what’s the rush?”
“What’s the hold-up?” she countered. She grabbed my cock, squeezing it appreciatively. “Mmm. Nice and hot. Stone hard. Why wait?”
“This erection is not going anywhere,” I said, my voice strangled.
Her clever hand twisted, swiveling along my shaft. “I can feel your heartbeat against my hand. Mmm, hot. Shall we go to the bed?”
I grabbed her hand. I was on a hair trigger. Her bold caresses put me on overload. “Hold on.”
“I’m trying to,” she purred, her hand tightening around me.
“We’re going too fast,” I told her. “Let’s put the brakes on.” If I didn’t know how tough she was, I would have read the look in her eyes as fear.
“I’m ready now,” she said.
“But I haven’t even touched you yet,” I said,
“What’s stopping you?” She grabbed my hand, pressing it against her breast. The contact made me gasp. She was perfect. Her skin so hot and baby smooth, her breast so springy soft, her nipple so tight, tickling my palm. I was going to explode.
“You’re scared,” I said.
“The hell I am.” Her voice was sharp. “Why are you being so coy?”
I shook my head. “I just want it to be good for you.”
“So? Come and get it. It’s already good for me. I can hardly breathe. That never happens. Let me capitalize on it while I can.”
I put both hands on her slender waist, and pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her. She stiffened, arching back away from me. She was not ready at all.
“You’re tense,” I said softly. “You have to relax first.”
