The Gritty Truth (The Whiskeys Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor #7) - Melissa Foster Page 0,100

really doing this?

She looked in the mirror again and cringed, turning away. It had looked so sexy in the store, and she wanted to do this so badly for Quincy, to let him know she was his through and through. She was not going to let the ribbon rob either of them of the special gift.

She straightened her spine, holding the top piece draped over her shoulder, and threaded it down between her breasts under the other satin strip, then fed it down between her breasts again. She pulled the bottom end up between her legs, covering her private parts, and ran it up the center of her body, over the ribbon covering her breasts, and threaded it down behind that ribbon, then tied the two ends into a big red bow. She looked in the mirror and could not believe she was standing there wearing nothing but two strips of satin. Her chest and cheeks were bright pink. But she was not going to let that dissuade her from turning on her incredibly sexy boyfriend with a gift he’d never expect.

She fluffed her hair, trying to ignore the feel of the ribbon riding her butt crack as she put on the skimpy, see-through red kimono she’d bought, and closed her eyes for one brief moment to try to calm down.

As if anything could work that miracle.

She drew upon every trick she’d ever learned about calming stage fright, which was nothing like setting out to seduce the man she loved, and threw a silent prayer up to the powers that be that she wouldn’t pass out from nervousness.

She grabbed her phone, queued up “Santa Baby” by Eartha Kitt on repeat, and did her best to strut out of the bedroom. Quincy was standing by the bookcase. He looked up from the book he was holding, and it fell from his fingers as she slinked toward him. Flames ignited between them as she twirled around. She held his predatory gaze, swaying her hips and shoulders, opening the kimono, and shimmying as it dropped to the floor.

“Holy…” he said huskily as she put her hand on his stomach, dragging her fingers along his side and back as she pranced around him, and then twirled.

“You li—”

“I fucking love.” He hauled her over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom.

“Quincy! Wait, I have a dance for you!”

He laid her on the bed and took off his shirt, coming down over her. “Devour now. Dance later.” His eyes bored into her as he untied the bows.

Oh, how she adored him! He made the pesky outfit worth the trouble.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He captured her mouth in a ravenous kiss, futilely trying to tug the satin free without breaking their kiss. He tugged and yanked, frustration rolling off him as he tore his mouth away and growled, “What the ever-loving hell? I need scissors.”

She giggled and began unwrapping herself. “Take your clothes off.”

He pushed from the bed, getting naked in three seconds flat, and reclaimed her mouth. His erection rested against her center, thick and enticing. She wanted to do so many things: slide down and feel him filling her until they were one, taunt him until he was begging her to make love to him, and this—allow his magnificent mouth to make her shudder and shake with pleasure. But tonight was supposed to be about him, so as his hands roamed over her body, she tipped her head back, arching beneath him so he’d rise. She knew her man so well. He was a passionate, caring lover and always gave her room to move. She rose, too, and pushed his chest, taking him down on his back. He reached for her ass as she straddled his legs, kissing his chest, teasing his nipples with her fingers and tongues. His cock twitched eagerly beneath her.

“Oh, yeah, baby, that feels good.” He grabbed her hips, tugging her forward. “I need my mouth on you.”

Her body ignited. “I have a better idea.”

“You want to fuck me, baby?” He squeezed her hips, lifting his beneath her.

She loved his dirty talk, and he knew it. He was a master at it, whispering such naughty things he could get her wet without ever touching her. “I want to love you with my mouth, and I want you to love me with yours.”

He made a guttural sound, and she wanted to repeat what she’d said just to hear him do it again. She shifted and turned, straddling his face, and wrapped