and then she pressed openmouthed kisses to my throat.
Holy shit. The hum in my blood channeled into pure, unfiltered need. “A little buzzed?” I asked, desperately trying to remember what I was supposed to be showing her.
“Buzzed. Hot. Achy. Restless.” She punctuated each word with a kiss until she’d made her way back to my mouth.
“Like you have a pretty good idea what to do about it, but getting to that release is going to make you cross some lines you’ve promised yourself not to cross?” My hands shifted to her ass and I squeezed lightly, groaning at the feel of her.
“Is this a game to you?” she asked softly, looking me in the eyes and gripping each of my wrists in her hands.
“What?” A game? I stopped in my tracks.
“Me. This. Whatever’s between us. Is it a game? Just something to get under my skin?” She swiped her tongue over her lower lip as a flash of something that looked a lot like fear streaked through her eyes, her breaths as unsteady as mine.
“No. This isn’t a game.” I held her gaze so she knew I meant it. There was far too much at stake here for any miscommunication. “Nothing about you is a game to me.”
She exhaled a sigh of relief, then smiled slowly as she took one of my hands from her ass and placed it on her breast.
“Fuck.” My mouth watered at the weight that more than filled my hand.
“Then forget the lines and touch me.” She arched into my palm, her lips kiss-swollen, her eyes glazed, and her hair disheveled from my fingers.
I nearly swallowed my tongue.
Then I pulled her back to my mouth, kissing her deep and hard as I shaped her breast, running my thumb over her nipple. Seeing the green lace of her bra as I unzipped her last night had just about undone me, and, given the texture beneath the silk of her blouse, my bet was on lace again tonight.
Her fingers tangled in my hair as the kiss spun out of control. Who the fuck was I kidding? Everything about this was out of control—just the way I liked it. I flicked open the middle button of her blouse and slid my hand inside.
Lace.
She gasped as I worked her nipple through the fabric, her breath coming in pants against my lips. I checked to make sure the door to the cabin was still shut, then flicked open the next button and shifted her blouse so it opened right where I needed.
Lifting her slightly with one hand, I sucked the peak of her breast into my mouth, then teased her nipple between my teeth, playing with the lace to increase the friction.
Her grip tightened in my hair, so I flicked her with my tongue, then moved her blouse so I could give the other breast equal attention. Her responsive little whimpers had me harder than stone, and the way her hips moved was simultaneously torture and bliss.
“Nixon, you’re killing me.”
I lifted my head as my hand slid from her knee to her bare thigh. “You’re so damned soft.” It wasn’t like I didn’t know she had a killer body—I’d been around her twenty-four seven for the last month, but she didn’t exactly share that body with the same frequency I did.
Used to.
It wasn’t just the fulfillment of a fantasy to touch her. It was a privilege—one I knew she’d end at any second, because Zoe wasn’t the one who lost control in this relationship. That was my role.
Our eyes locked and held as I moved up her thigh. One sign from her that this was too far, and I’d back off, but she swept her tongue over her lower lip and nodded.
I slipped under her skirt, which had bunched just a few inches shy of the juncture of her thighs, and still she held my gaze, nothing but desire in those green depths. Fuck me, she was wearing lace here too.
My girl had a thing for matching underwear.
I nearly flinched at my own thoughts—Zoe wasn’t my anything, but then I felt just how wet she was for me, and I decided she might not be mine, but I was sure as hell hers in this moment.
“Zoe,” I groaned, running my fingers beneath the fabric of her— Holy shit, that was a thong? No wonder her ass looked seamless in this skirt.
She rested her forehead against mine, then moaned my name softly when I skimmed my fingertips over her clit.