Not So Far Away (Worlds Collide The Duets #1) - LL Meyer Page 0,95

truck.

“Don’t let me push you too far, okay?”

She licks those delectable lips as she nods. “Okay.”

The short walk is made in silence, every step ratcheting up my need for her.

At the building’s entrance, she goes ahead of me to unlock the door. God, those long legs in those heels? All that smooth skin stretched over lean muscle that flexes as she walks? The sight twists me up further, making the want stretch and claw inside of me.

As if she can sense my eyes all over her, she winks at me over her shoulder. The notion that she thinks she has some control over this mounting tension between us is intolerable. Tonight, I need things my way. She’ll be the one yielding.

Once we’re inside her apartment, she moves closer, but I stop her. “In the bedroom.” The harsh tone of my voice has her steady gaze clashing with mine, holding it until the connection between us is strung as taut as a piano wire. Without a word, she finally turns on her heel and strolls that incredibly sweet ass across the living area and into her bedroom.

She bends over to switch on the bedside lamp and I almost groan. When she faces me, I lean back against the wall. “Strip,” I order.

I should have known it would take more than a simple command to fluster her. As she slowly opens the side zipper on her dress, her lips still have that haughty tilt to them, like she knows exactly how desperate I am for her no matter my attempts to play it cool. The irritation I’m feeling ebbs though as soon as the dress comes over her head and she’s left in the most incredible lingerie I’ve ever seen. Holy shit, she didn’t give me a preview of that earlier. The bra is all black. The barely there cups are edged with lace, and show off the creamy flesh they’re holding, serving her up like an ice cream sundae. The matching bottoms are also lacy but in a much more wholesome way with a lot more material to them than the usual thongs she wears – boy shorts, my brain comes up with. The contrast created between the two pieces, one sinful, one sensible, sends another shot of lust through me.

I tell her to spin with a twirl of my index finger and my jaw drops. If the panties are innocent in the front, from the back, they’re anything but. The lace that edges the front makes up the entire backside, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Facing forward again, she strikes a pose, her hands landing on her hips. “You like?”

“I do,” I tell her honestly, though the idea that she still has the upper hand re-frays my nerves a bit. “Come here,” I demand. She swings her hips of course, then stands in front of me still in her heels, leaving us almost eye to eye. God, she’s my every wet dream.

She reaches for me, but I give her a shake of my head . . . and finally, I get a flicker of uncertainty. It’s not quite as satisfying as I thought it would be, so I lean into her and run my nose from her shoulder to her ear, breathing her in. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, undoing the clasp on her bra and letting it fall to the floor. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

She hums softly as the tip of my index finger slides down from her collar bone, circling first one tightly beaded nipple and then the other before continuing down over the slight swell of her belly to trace her navel. Hooking her underwear, I slip them down her thighs, then her calves until I have her step out of them. Her heels are the next to go and when I’m back on my feet, an irrational sense of triumph floods my system at being able to loom over her again. In fact . . .

“On your knees.”

She responds with an eagerness that has my dick jerking in my pants. I step back and look my fill of her sitting on her heels, clad in nothing but the opal necklace. The incredible picture she makes only gets better when she waits for my eyes to meet hers and then primly lays her hands on her knees and spreads her thighs wide to show me how slick and swollen she is. Damn.

My clothes come off, piece by piece and then she watches my