A Thin Disguise - Catherine Bybee Page 0,55

hips, giving her better access.

“Hello, Mr. FBI.”

He chuckled over her breast, caught her flesh in a soft bite.

She squirmed.

“Do that again,” she told him.

He did.

He kissed, nibbled, and stroked every part of her, exciting and prolonging her pleasure with the process. She followed his pace, kiss for kiss, fondle for fondle. Many times she felt the need to rush, wanted to roll him onto his back and take control, but then he’d find another part of her that he hadn’t cared for, and she was right back to arching into his touch and enjoying all the sensations he was bringing out in her.

Everything he was doing felt so new, unique to him . . . to them together.

And when they finally couldn’t wait any longer, she reached for the condom and opened the wrapper.

She helped him roll it on and invited him in.

Leo reached for her hands, intertwining their fingers, and slowly sunk into her body.

It was like she couldn’t breathe, the feeling was so complete. “So good, Leo. This is . . . you are . . .”

He was smiling a fool’s grin when she opened her eyes to look at him.

He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “We are . . .”

Slowly, he made himself comfortable.

Inside, her body trembled, each pass harder to control than the next.

Leo’s lips found hers, his tongue mimicking what his body was doing. Her legs wrapped around his waist, giving him a better angle, placing him exactly where she wanted until rational thoughts just stopped swimming in her head and all she could see was the finish line. She guided him . . . faster, slower . . . right there. Until she was calling his name and flexing every internal muscle she possessed.

Once again she dropped her hands to her sides, lax in his care.

“Very nice,” she heard him say.

Her eyes opened, she looked down. The man was still rock hard and inside of her.

She took that as a challenge.

A flick of her hips and a tuck of his shoulder and she had him on his back. “Okay, Superman . . . it’s my turn.”

She sat up tall, welcomed his hands on her breasts, and started to ride.

“Aww, fuck,” he muttered, his eyes rolling back in his head.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

They’d made love for hours, took a late-night shower together, and laughed and played like two teenage kids without a care in the world.

Leo ate up every second.

They tiptoed down the hall to his room to get a pair of lounge pants before sneaking into the kitchen to refuel. He’d started a fire in the bedroom fireplace, and they watched the snow falling outside.

It was past three in the morning when Olivia finally settled into his arm and started to close her eyes. “Are you sure you want to sleep in here? I might have that dream again.”

He pulled her close, wrapped a hand around her waist. “I’ll take my chances.”

He kissed her, watched her eyes flutter a few times, before she placed her head on his shoulder and allowed her body to rest.

And he watched her.

The dying fire in front of them, her breath gentle and steady on his chest. He wanted this to last so badly, he felt something inside him break.

Maybe Neil was wrong.

Maybe she wouldn’t leave.

Maybe the feeling inside of him was inside of her and she’d want to make it work.

Finally, his brain couldn’t hold on any longer and he fell asleep in her arms.

She woke with a start. An unfamiliar weight beside her.

The night’s events flooded in, and the steady ache in her body from being thoroughly satisfied, repeatedly, sang in her head.

“Leo,” she whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open to find him sound asleep.

Memories of orgasms and never-ending kisses . . . laughter. Teasing and playful moments. Soft moments where emotions she didn’t think she knew snuck in.

Olivia felt utterly stuffed with the feel of the man. And not just sexually. Yes, he’d done all that . . . but more.

So much more.

She flexed her toes and, careful not to wake him, inched out from under his arm to use the bathroom.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her attention. Her hair was a mess, her eyes shined, and there was a significant love bite on her right breast.

Leo took direction well.

After splashing water on her face and brushing the morning breath from her mouth, she retrieved her T-shirt from the floor, put it on, and grabbed her bathrobe.

Leo hadn’t moved a muscle.

She silently made

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