SLOW PLAY (7-Stud Club #4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,37
of lust, and then her hands jumped to the hem of her sweatshirt, yanking it up. She could drive this train as well as he.
New memories.
“Harp,” he breathed, as she tossed away the fabric then unclipped her bra, letting that drop to their feet. “Jesus, Harp.”
His reverence made her heart jump. She moved in, her fingers going to the button of his shorts but he pushed her hands away and then cupped his palms at her bottom, cinching her tight and hard against his erection. Their naked torsos met. Inside her, in the lowest place, another pulse, an insistent ache, a clamoring to be touched, filled.
To have Mad inside her again.
She drew his head down, taking a greedy kiss, pouring herself into the moment. No thought of what was. Only of what was right now.
His head dipped and he found her breast, his tongue toying with her nipple. She moaned, her hands cradling him against her, her back bowing to encourage the sweetness of his closeness. He tugged on the budded tip and her eyes rolled back in her head as she burned for him. Then his hands unsnapped her jeans and he pushed them down to her knees, taking her panties with them.
His rough palm stroked her flank and then his fingers slid to her front, cupping her, applying a firm pressure that upped the pulse there. She gasped as he sucked harder on her nipple.
More insistent throbbing. Harper had to do something about this.
“Bed,” she said, suppressing the moan that wanted to accompany it. “Bed. Now.”
His head lifted. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his eyes dark.
Ready to swallow her up.
She moved back, nearly tripping due to the constriction of denim and underwear. With a frustrated sound, she shuffled out of her flip-flops then kicked off everything else.
He sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze running over her nudity.
“Whimsy?” she said. “Let’s go get whimsical.” Twirling on her uninjured foot she ran toward what she hoped was the bedroom.
Then long arms scooped her up. “Wrong way.”
Throwing back her head, she laughed and relaxed in his arms, letting him romance-movie stride in the opposite direction. They turned a corner and into a room dimly lit by a single lamp. She had the vague impression of walls, wood blinds, a big bed with a dark patchwork quilt before he tossed her onto the mattress.
She bounced, then sat up to watch him work on the remainder of his clothes. God, he’d matured in all the right ways. Heavy shoulders, the chest she’d already admired, muscled thighs.
That other part of him that made her shiver again.
“Oh, wow,” she whispered.
He pulled open the drawer of the bedside table, removed foil packets, dropped them beside the lamp. She stared.
Right. Protection. Sex.
Mad and Harp were going to have sex.
New memories.
She switched her gaze to meet his eyes. “Do we know what we’re doing?”
His smile was part wolfish, part tender. “I know what I’m doing. Shall I promise to remind you how it goes?”
She had to smile back. The way he looked at her told her he saw her as a mature woman, a bold and intrepid world traveler. Not someone always running from her feelings, her inner voice said. She reached for Mad. “Come here.”
His weight was delicious, heavy and hair roughened. With an elbow on either side of her head, he looked down, another smile curving his lips. “I may have imagined this a time or two.”
She floated on the bubble of that comment, wrapping her arms around his neck even as she wiggled on the mattress to make a better place for him between her legs. His erection pressed hot against the inner crease of her thigh. She reached up to kiss him.
When they came up for air he was staring at her again. “You still kiss just fine.”
“I do?” Delight made her sound so young. Eighteen. Twenty. She’d been so in love with him then.
But no. No! Don’t get mired in the past. Stay in the moment, Harper.
New memories.
“Kiss me again,” she said, pulling his head down.
His mouth was greedy this time, his touch determined, his expertise obvious. Another shiver turned into a shudder and she abandoned herself to the feelings, to the pleasure, to the skim of his fingertips down her belly as he again kissed and laved her breasts.
He played with her intimate folds, moisture on his fingertips, her body telling the truth about her eager response to him. Moaning, she lifted into his touch, her nails digging into