Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,97

a girl can pick up off the internet.”

Just that easily, he was hard. Of course, having had her hands on him, he’d already been halfway there.

Maybe someday she’ll watch those videos with me.

The carnal thought made the head of his dick push against the waistband of his swim trunks. Then the rest of him stiffened when he remembered there would be no “someday.” Tonight was all they had.

“You ready for me to start working my way down?” Her voice was pure innocence. But when he glanced over his shoulder, he found her expression was pure seduction.

“Do I needa answer with words? Or does my raging hard-on speak for itself?” He motioned with his hand toward the pup tent in his lap. Seriously, a whole troop of Boy Scouts could camp beneath it.

Chuckling, she leaned forward and lazily paid homage to his mouth. Claiming it. Worshipping it.

Claiming him.

Worshipping him.

He withstood her soft, slow ministrations for as long as he could. Then he lunged and had her flat on her back, fitting himself between her thighs and growling his appreciation at the sultry heat he found waiting for him.

He’d never met a woman more naturally amorous than Alex. Her little body was made for love, so soft and wet and warm. His body answered in kind, burning hard and fast and hot.

“No.” She pressed at his shoulders. “You’re exhausted. Let me be on top this time. I have a few positions I want to try.” She began enumerating them on her fingers. “Reverse Cowgirl, the Louise, the Fantastic Elevator, and—”

He rolled her on top of him, wondering if now would be a good time to take off her panties and muzzle her with them. The more sexual positions she named—Fantastic Elevator? Is she for real?—the hornier he got. Which didn’t bode well for her if she actually wanted him to last through all of her experimentation.

“Don’t take offense,” he told her breathlessly, unable to stop himself from cupping her breasts through the cotton fabric of her tank top, delighting when her nipples pebbled under the brush of his thumbs. “But it’s time for you to shut up and kiss me.”

Her smile was one part bemused and two parts sex kitten. “No offense taken,” she assured him, removing her glasses to set them aside on the bedside table. “And kissing you would be my pleasure.”

This time when she touched her mouth to his, he would swear her lips and tongue plastered over the cracks in his heart. For that one sweet, fleeting moment in time, the organ felt blessedly whole again.

And it beat only for her.

* * *

12:21 a.m.

“Sex might be the best invention of all time. I feel like a note of thanks is in order, but who would I send it to?” Alex was sweaty and buzzing and completely content after two more educational bouts of lovemaking.

It was two bouts instead of one because when she’d come during Reverse Cowgirl, Mason had shouted her name and followed her over the edge. After catching his breath, he’d apologized.

“For such a small woman, you gotta fucking caboose on you. Watching it bounce up and down on my dick was too much. Gimme fifteen minutes and we’ll go again.”

For the record, he’d been ready in ten. And that time he’d lasted through every position change she could think of, gently adjusting her angle or increasing her rhythm when something didn’t work for her.

Now, two hours and three orgasms later, she was spent. A little delirious. And a whole lot in love with the act of procreation.

Of course, that last thing probably had something to do with her being a whole lot in love with the man she was procreating with.

“You could send the letter to me,” he said, the sweat on his brow making his deeply tanned skin sparkle in the glow of the moonlight. His accent turned the word letter into lettah.

She rolled onto her side and propped her head in her hand. “Why? I did all the work.”

“All of it?” He quirked a brow, and she was reminded of how busy his lips had been. The industriousness of his wide-palmed hands and callused fingertips.

“Okay,” she allowed, “maybe not all.”

Tossing a leg over his thigh, she nestled her head against his chest so she could listen while his heartbeat wound down from a rapid tattoo to a steady thud.

Steady. Strong. Relentless. Just like the man himself.

She went to place a tender kiss over the organ but jerked to a sit when a distant