The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,641

standing before me, sliding her flimsy cotton shorts and pink satin thong down her thighs.

“What’s this?” I ask, unable to wipe the championship winner’s grin off my face.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Jude Warner,” she says, her voice a soft yet confident whisper. No one’s ever said my name the way she does—my full name—like she enjoys the way it feels in her mouth … on her tongue. Bending, she trails the tip of her index finger down my chest then down the center of my abs before slipping beneath the loosened waistband of my jeans.

Fuck.

I can’t take this anymore.

“Love,” I say. She glances up at me from her position on her knees, her hand splayed on my Adonis belt, and she smiles. “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

Pulling her up to a standing, I slide my hands around her hips and lift her until her legs wrap around me, and then I carry her back to my room.

Depositing her on the middle of my king-sized bed, I grab a rubber from one of the nightstand drawers, ripping the golden foil packet between my teeth. When I return to Love’s side, she wastes no time tugging my boxes and jeans the rest of the way down—she’s just as impatient as I am.

Sliding the condom into place, I move to the head of the bed and rest my back against a stack of pillows before pulling Love into my lap. Her arms hook around my shoulders as the sweet scent of her arousal fills my lungs and I cup her chin, pointing her mouth to mine before claiming it again. Reaching below, she wraps her hand around my cock and guides it inside her one slow, tantalizing inch at a time.

When I’m deep inside her, she offers the sexiest sigh I’ve ever heard and begins to pick up the pace, riding me faster, her nails digging into my back as she bites her full bottom lip.

Who knew sweet little Love Aldridge was such a sexpot?

This is completely unexpected, but watching her enjoy the hell out of herself only makes me harder, makes me want her more.

Gripping her hips, I press her deeper onto my cock, meeting her thrust for thrust so she can feel every inch of how hot I am for her. Our skin is slicked and sheened in sweat. Nothing about this is romantic—it’s animal—but it’s perfect.

I think she needed this.

And hell … maybe in a way, I did too.

“You’re fucking dynamite,” I say to her, soliciting a smile that I waste no time kissing off those swollen lips of hers.

The thought of having this—having Love—all to myself for the next several months and then never having her or anything this exciting again fills my mind, but I push it away, focusing on this moment and on this gorgeous woman who can’t keep her hands off me.

Yesterday’s gone. Tomorrow doesn’t exist. All we have is right now, this calm before the storm.

Twenty-One

Love

* * *

I woke up this morning to the hum of Jude’s air conditioner kicking on, a kink in my neck, and a blanket covering my naked body. Sunlight poured through the window beside me as I sat up, finger combed my hair, and glanced around for any sign of life as last night played like a dream in my head. So perfect, so unreal. I wanted to close my eyes and relive it, second by second. The sound of the rain patting the window in soft drops, the feel of his skin, hot and sticky against mine, the warm, faded scent of his aftershave filling the damp air, the satisfying sighs coming from Jude’s full mouth as he drove himself deeper into me …

He’d left me a note on the bedside table.

Love,

Didn’t want to wake you. See you tonight.

Jude

PS – Thanks for last night. Let’s do it again sometime …

But I’m home now, and while it’s been almost twelve hours and a delicious, satisfying soreness still lingers between my thighs as I get ready for our date tonight. He hasn’t said where he’s taking me … just that I should dress casually and comfortably and not expect anything fancy, which was a relief because pomp and circumstance gets old.

Spinning in front of my full-length mirror, I inspect my casual cotton shirt dress and tug a few face-framing tendrils from my messy top knot before stepping into a pair of strappy leather sandals.

This … this feels good and natural to me.

Glancing in the