Been There Done That (Leffersbee #1) - Hope Ellis Page 0,106
His hands coasted to my back, arms banding behind me until there was no room between us.
I moaned as his fingers anchored in my hair, craning my neck and holding it in place. I shivered, helpless against the twin sensations of wet heat and prickled stubble dragging along the sensitive skin of my neck. I whimpered, desperate for more.
“Come here,” he murmured against my skin. Drunk with pleasure, I couldn’t muster the words to ask what he meant, how we could possibly get any closer.
He removed all confusion, fisting my tight-fitting gown with his free hand and easing it upward by slow degrees.
And I actually helped him, as if there wasn’t only a wall separating us from hundreds of people.
I reached back with one hand, working to peel the close-fitting dress upwards.
Nick gave a huff, then briefly relinquished his hold on my neck to tug at the dress with both hands, tugging and pulling with all the delicacy of a corn husker.
Cold air bathed my nude legs as the dress cleared my waist. He grunted, boosting my legs and guiding them until they clasped around his lean waist.
“That’s better,” he breathed, hands still busy, fingers awakening nerves all along my arms and thighs.
“Yes.” I moaned it, yanking until I successfully slid the black tie free from around his neck.
“What do you want, Zora?” His tongue traced a trail down my chest to the tops of my breasts.
Was that me, moaning that loudly? Lower, my body clenched on its own emptiness while my thighs slid along the unbearably soft fabric of his trousers. Some wild instinct seized and my hips canted forward to meet his hardness, easily taking up a lurid rhythm, tightly circling on his lap.
He swore.
“Give me your mouth,” I said, shameless in my grinding now.
He obeyed, capturing my face between his hands as I tasted his lips, then chased the whiskey flavor of his tongue. I readjusted my grip on his shoulders while my lower body sought greater friction against his solid heat.
“Shit, Zora.” His breath was shallow and strangled, as if he too suddenly found air in short supply. “I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“You wanted me to take what I want.” I gave a perverse laugh. “What, you scared?”
He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. His mouth turned up in the cocky grin I recognized from our schoolyard days, and my heart turned over.
“I’m just making sure you’re ready, baby.”
“Stop calling me baby,” I huffed, then gasped when cold air met my left breast, closely followed by the strong, warm suction of his mouth.
“Oh, God.”
“You were saying?”
I gripped the back of his head, desperate for the clever exploration of his tongue again, and he gave a low laugh.
“I’m okay with it now. I’ll be baby if you keep doing that with your tongue.”
He rewarded me with a swirl that launched me into spasms of delight.
His hand slid between our bodies, past my mons, fingers seeking.
“Zora?”
“Huh?” I was so hot, so out of my mind with lust, I might have answered to any name.
“What the hell is this? Why can’t I get to you?”
“Spanx,” I laughed, and he joined in, his rising chest jostling me.
“Why’d you have to go and do that?”
“I didn’t see this in the forecast,” I said, deciding to test out my own free access to all the rigid pleasure I’d been riding over his pants.
Our arms jockeyed for position as we frantically worked at each other. Nick caught my breast in his mouth again and I shuddered, momentarily stymied in my attempt to discover just how far his length extended outside the constraints of his trousers.
“I can’t wait,” I admitted, feeling my hips take on a life of their own.
“Me either,” Nick breathed. “Although I think my heart’s gonna stop if you keep squirming on me like that.”
We both laughed and then I stopped, jarred by a realization.
The music. It had stopped.
“Oh, my God! Oh no!” I pushed off of Nick’s chest and stumbled upright, now painfully aware of the fact that I was half-dressed.
Was this the second time I’d found myself half-naked in his presence? What was wrong with me?
“What’s happened?” He seemed distracted, his eyes unfocused as they tracked my desperate efforts at shoving my breasts into my strapless bra which—spoiler alert—didn’t work nearly as well in the reverse.
“The music,” I hissed, panic turning my hands into ineffectual blocks. “They’re about to start the awards presentation! I’m slated to go on first.”