how lame it seemed. I’m supposed to be a modern female! Not a giggling twit whose panties get soaked because some guy made me feel small and precious.”
“I’m not some guy,” he growled. “I’m the guy, and we might as well get it out into the open now.”
Mental note to self: Add giggle snorting to his list of guilty pleasures.
The laugh was accompanied by Summer playfully shoving at his shoulder. “Seriously? I give you wet panties on a silver platter, but you get grumpy about semantics?”
“Admit I’m the guy, and we’ll circle round to the subject of your panties.”
“Oh! You want a declaration? Hmph,” she grunted. “Quite a switcheroo, isn’t it? I mean, it’s usually the woman looking for reassurance, right?”
No joke, his entire being exploded with joyful elation. It didn’t matter if she was teasing—what mattered was how absolutely right she was. Him needing to be told he was the man was a role reversal.
He grinned. “You can’t beguile me with quirky charm and tempt me to the brink of madness with a body begging for my touch and not admit this one thing.”
“Beguiled? Lovely word.”
“Beguiled, enchanted, charmed, spellbound. Seduced,” he added in a throaty growl.
Her small hands crept around his waist and embraced him. “I knew you were the one the minute I saw those fugly shoes. There. Satisfied?”
He grinned and stepped back to move her an arm’s length away.
She snickered. “Bored already?”
“As if.” He laughed. “Now, listen up. I want you to bend over and pick up the things I dropped.”
She was confused. He crossed his arms and gave her a pointed look.
“Ohh.” She giggled. “You want me to bend over.”
“Ah, I see understanding in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Now stop stalling, baby, and do as you’re told.”
To his utter amazement, she flowed effortlessly into a handstand ending with a sexy pirouette. She gave him a memorable ass show while gathering the condoms and lube.
Holding up the two things, she blushed profusely. “So, I guess we’re doing this, huh?”
“Probably a couple of times,” he drawled. “Put them on the bed and then come back.”
She did as he asked and approached cautiously. Summer knew the time was at hand. He was so attuned to her that he felt her tension. She was breathing faster; her nipples were visible under her sweater, and she had red blotches on her neck. The signs of her increasing arousal were obvious. What wasn’t so obvious was the blood flowing into her sweet virgin pussy. By now, her clit would be swelling, and she must be noticeably wet.
Arnie heard her gasp when he dropped to one knee and reached for the button on her jeans. She was quivering as he pulled the zipper down and spread the sides. He kissed the soft skin of her stomach before pushing the clingy denim off her delectable body.
Her hands trembled, and she clutched his shoulder to steady herself as he removed the pants.
With the denim in a pile, he switched his focus to the triangle of sheer pink lace doing a poor job of shielding her femininity from his gaze.
Grasping her ass, he hauled her close and buried his nose at the juncture of her thighs. “Oh, baby,” he groaned. “You smell so good.”
“Arnie,” she whimpered as her hands went into his hair.
He breathed her in again and again until it felt as though he was drowning in her sweet, musky essence. His mouth tingled and watered. When the time came to put his tongue to good use, he was going to enjoy her taste.
Summer was no stranger to an orgasm. She considered herself among the lucky who had no problem coming, but she wasn’t prepared to feel the soft pulses of a surprising climax from nothing more than Arnie’s face smashed against her mound.
It was his manly groan that tipped her off the ledge and sent her into a quivering free fall.
His eyes told her he knew what happened. She gasped at the red-hot pleasure in his expression.
He wasted no time peeling away her panties. She liked the pretty pink silk even though at best her lingerie consisted of scraps of nothing or the sensible white briefs she wore for practical reasons.
With her panties gone, this time when he pressed his nose against her, he grunted.
“I smell your desire, golden girl.”
He plucked at the modest thatch of blond curls left after her latest waxing. Since the days of her time as a gymnast, she preferred meticulous ladyscaping to an overgrown garden.