Dream Of You - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,45

knew he wasn’t going to want to do this with clothes on. Oh no, he was a skin man. All the confidence pranced right out of the room on two twig legs. Twig legs with perky breasts, which were two things I didn’t have.

I stepped back, drawing in a deep breath as I looked up at him. I hated the sudden insecurity, absolutely loathed it. It was my skin, my body, and it was a part of me, but in this moment, it felt like an itchy, uncomfortable sweater.

Colton stepped closer, his hand lingering on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Biting down on my lip, I nodded as I glanced at our bare feet. Next to his, mine actually appeared somewhat small. Still not feminine. Not these cave feet. Okay. My feet didn’t look like cave feet. I was being too hard on myself.

“Then what’s going on? You’ve left this room. Probably even this house.” He paused. “Is this about Nic—”

“No.” My gaze flew to his, and that wasn’t entirely a lie. I couldn’t help compare myself to her, because hell, I was human, but it was more than that. “I…It’s been so long since I’ve done this, Colton.”

His fingers skirted down my arm. “I know.”

Did he really know? “Four years.”

He threaded his fingers through mine. “I figured that.”

Closing my eyes, I exhaled softly. “You want to see me, but I’m not sure you really want to. I don’t look like—”

“I know what you look like,” he said, his voice low as his gaze met and held mine. “I have two eyes and I’ve been checking you out often. Enough that it would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew. I fucking adore what I see.” He drew my hand to his groin, folding my palm over the rigid length. “I want what I see.”

My breath caught on a soft inhale as I held him lightly in my grip. I thought I could feel him pulse. My gaze dropped to where his much larger hand folded over mine. Colton was right. He had two, completely functioning eyes. Wasn’t like the clothing I wore hid what was really there, and the heat burning my palm told me that he did want this, just as badly as I did.

I could do this.

Slipping my hand away from him, I reached down, catching the skirt of my dress. I couldn’t hesitate at this point. Now or never. Before I could change my mind, I pulled the dress up over my head and then I let it drop to the floor.

I lifted my gaze as I held my breath.

His eyes were glued to mine and a slight, soft smile tugged at one corner of his lips. Then his gaze dropped, gliding slowly over me, and I knew those brilliant blue eyes didn’t miss a thing. Not the dainty, blue lace edging along the straps of my bra or the cups. Not the way my waist curved in and then flared out. The undies weren’t sexy. They were just cotton boy shorts, and they didn’t even match the bra, but as his gaze traveled down to my painted toes, I had a feeling he really didn’t care about that.

“You know what, Abby?” His voice was gruff, like he’d just woken up. “You’re unbelievably sexy. Every last fucking inch of you.” He brushed the back of his hand over my shoulder. “This is.” That hand then dropped to graze the swell of my breasts. “So are these, and so is this.” He trailed a finger down my belly and around my navel. “And I want to lick these hips.” His hand smoothed over one and then around, cupping my rear. “Actually, I want to taste every part of you.”

My heart pounded. “I’m…I’m totally down for that.”

He chuckled as he stepped closer. With one hand on my shoulder, he guided me down until I was sitting on the bed. Keeping my attention fastened on him, I scooted back and refused to allow myself to get caught up in my head again.

Not that I could when he was taking off his jeans. The way the muscles of his stomach bunched and flexed was fascinating to me. It also made me think of what he’d said he wanted to do to me, about tasting me all over. I actually wanted to do it to him.

He left the tight, black boxer briefs on as he walked around the bed, placing one knee on it as he came down beside me. There was