casual. I do real. Ok?”
I nod. But why? Can’t we just fuck? What’s with all the talking? I’m really not that interesting. What if he realizes that? Shit, I hate talking about myself.
“Well, I guess you better unlock your door so I can peel you out of that skirt.” His hand slides down my back and over my ass as he bends to nuzzle my neck. “My whole ride up, I couldn’t stop thinking about you walking around without panties on.”
I struggle with the distraction and the lock.
“You want some help, darlin’, or should we get started out here?” His soft breath heats my skin as I feel his smile against my neck.
I manage to get the door unlocked, and he follows me in, dropping his bag and jacket on a chair. Why does he always make me so nervous? And, what’s with this need to talk all the time? “Would you like a drink?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a beer.” He wonders around the small room, occasionally watching me putter around. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“Yeah.” I fix a whiskey for myself.
He picks up my picture of Angela and I see him study it from the corner of my eye. “Who’s the girl?”
I freeze. Clearing my throat, I mutter, “old girlfriend,” thankful that he can’t see my face. I pick up my drink and his beer and carry our drinks back to the kitchen table. He sets the picture down and sits in one of the chairs. I place the beer in front of him and take the other seat.
He looks at me with a mildly insulted look. I look away out of pure instinct, uncomfortable with no apparent reason why. Crossing my legs, I take a sip of my drink and wonder what the problem is.
His eyes darken as he orders, “Come here.”
“What? I’m right here,” I say, sipping from my drink. Why does he look angry?
“No, come here.” He growls. He pats his leg and says, “Now.”
I take the few steps around the tiny table, standing above him. “What?”
He pulls me down onto his lap, encircling his arms around me, drawing me in for a kiss. His lips light softly on mine, and become firm and demanding as he forces my mouth open. A light moan escapes my lips as his tongue possesses mine. My hands weave into his curly hair. The curls play softly against my fingers. My hands move instinctively to the sides of his face feeling the softness of his beard. The volume of my groan surprises me. I want this man...for more than a night. Geez, I am so fucked. My breath comes in rapid pants, eager, furious. I have to pull away to get more air. I look into his eyes, and I want to get lost in them. I devour his mouth again in another kiss. I need to show him how much I want him.
A low growl announces his approval.
Encouraged, my hands move to his shirt buttons. I touch the round disks, feeling them with my hands. My fingers contact metal and discover they are snaps, not buttons. Pulling back, my greedy hands poise on his shirt, and my lips part. Heat radiates from my eyes as I yank the first snap open, letting the pop hang in the air, keeping my eyes locked with his. Scorching. Wanting. As I pull each snap open, the sound vibrates through the room…through me. Each snap builds my anticipation, emphasizing my need, revealing more. Diving deep into his darkening blue eyes, I bury myself there. Bearing my soul the only way I can.
See me. Really see me.
I kneel between his legs, kissing my way down his chest, inhaling him, enjoying his scent, a heady mixture of fresh grass, spring air, and sandalwood soap. I pull his shirt open wider, worshipping each muscle, each ripple with my lips.
My hands stop at his belt. I rub my finger along the top of its hard edge, my body remembering our first night. Unbuckling it with gradual soft movements, I look up at him, holding his gaze in mine. I unbutton his jeans, letting the teeth of the zipper part one sweet tooth at a time. My shameless smile is meant to taunt him. Who needs talking when I can have your dick in my mouth?
“Darlin’, are you trying to make me crazy?” His eyes darken. “I’m ‘bout ready to bend you over this table and fuck you into next week.”
Reaching in, I free his cock. I