Trials and Tiaras (Untouchable #7) - Heather Long Page 0,126
to the bathroom. After I peed, I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face. It was almost too warm in the apartment. Half-stumbling, I headed for the A/C and turned it on. The hum of the motor kicking in promised it would cool down. I wanted to cuddle the guys but not get cooked by them.
In the kitchen, I filled a glass with water and leaned against the counter as I sipped it. My eyes were half-shut, but the day before played out like a movie in my head. Everything from waking up, to all the playful sex before school, to the blowjob I gave Jake in the library. I loved watching them fall apart. I loved being the reason they did. Then going to the concert. Not even the arrival of half of bad meatloaf could diminish the day.
“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing out of bed?” Jake asked in a sleepy half-rumble that made my toes curl.
“Hot,” I admitted and glanced over at him. He was all rumpled hair and stubbled face where he stood in the doorway. The single light over the stove offered a dull yellow cast, enough to see by and not trip over the cats, but it was also easy on the eyes.
“You’re always hot,” he teased, and I chuckled at the easy compliment and play on words.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I reminded him.
“And I behold a really beautiful fucking girl.” The firmness in his words sent a curl of heat to lick through me and warmed me from the inside out. He narrowed the distance between us and took the glass from my fingertips and refilled it before setting it on the counter and boxing me in. “Do you know how gorgeous you are?”
I traced one of my fingers up the ridges of his abs to his chest. “If I’m half as good looking as you, I’d be okay with that.”
He snorted as I explored lazily. The dark hair dusting his lower abs before arrowing beneath his boxers was always so soft. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips along my throat, and I sighed as I moved my head to let him have better access. The air conditioning had come on, and a breeze of cool air washed over my arms and flushed skin, eliciting goosebumps. I shivered both from the air and the way he nibbled his way along my throat.
Sliding his big hands under my shirt, he massaged my sides and back before cupping my ass and dragging me forward, just as his mouth closed over mine. It was a slow, easy kiss. It demanded nothing. The stroke of his lips, the brush of his tongue. Teasing, testing, tasting. It was the kind of kiss that had me straining to get closer, and at the same time, savoring the play. When he lifted me, I wrapped my legs around his hips.
The slow grind of his boxer clad erection against the seam of my panties made me groan. So close, yet the friction was a delicious promise of what was to come. My shirt tickled my nipples as I rolled my hips and rubbed against him. He tightened one of the hands on my ass as he slid the other up to fist my hair.
Never once letting me up for air, he maneuvered us out of the kitchen and into the living room. The softness of the sofa brushed my legs as he lowered me to it. With a light slap against my ass, he murmured for me to let go, and I groaned. But from the contact and the command. He lifted his head and stared down at me.
With only the light behind him, I couldn’t make out his face, but the weight of his stare rolled over me like a caress. Gently, he tugged my shirt up and then brushed his lips against my abdomen and followed the fabric up as he uncovered more flesh. When he reached my breasts, I let out a little sigh. He didn’t quite touch my nipples, kissing around them until they were tight and straining. When I arched my hips, he gave my hip a sharp little slap that had me gasping.
“Baby Girl,” he began in a voice so heavy and thick, it sent another shudder through me. “Do you want a birthday spanking?”
A shudder washed over me at the offer. It had been a while since Ian actually spanked me, and Jake had given