“Using my hands.” His fingers worked their way around the front. He slid a single finger up the center of her silk panties. He made another pass, this time using his entire hand. “Just a little. Okay?”
She nodded, relaxing her legs to give him more room and whispering, “Just a little,” before pressing down on his hand.
He wanted to explore, take his time. If second base with an attempt at stealing third was all he was going to allow himself, then he wanted this to last. His hand went under the panties, and Marc followed the curve of her amazing ass down and around, then slipped in from behind.
She moaned something that sounded like “Oh God, yes,” with her eyes wide and so full of want that his whole body went into overdrive. “Just a little,” she repeated. “Right”—she rose up and then sank back down, impaling herself on his hand—“there.”
“You are so wet, sugar.”
“I have been ever since I saw you watching me from your office,” she admitted.
He wondered exactly which time she was referring to.
“Then it seems I have been slacking on my boyfriend duties.” He slowly withdrew his finger, sliding two in its place. “I say we fix that, immediately.”
She gasped. “Fake boyfriend duties.”
“Oh no, sugar.” He stroked ever so slowly, bringing her as close to the edge as he could get without going over. “We do this and there won’t be faking of any kind.”
He waited until she nodded, then picked up the pace, applying more friction and gently building the pressure. He wanted her to enjoy this, to make it last. But she wasn’t making it easy. Her mouth was on his, hungry and raw, as her body vibrated with need. She was so primed all he had to do was curl his fingers, just like so and—
“Oh God,” she moaned, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the curve of his neck. She held on tight as her whole body shook with release.
Breathing heavily, they sat there, on the pantry floor, clutching onto one another as she rode out her orgasm.
When was the last time he’d made a woman come and she’d still been fully clothed? He realized, with a grin, that this was his first. Alexis Moreau was his first.
Not that he hadn’t wished he’d at least pulled the straps of her dress down so he could see that red bra she was bragging about. In fact, being with Lexi like this, and knowing that he wasn’t going to get his and that he was still smiling like a fool, should have made him run. But honestly, right now, there was nowhere else his feet wanted to take him. And that was okay.
CHAPTER 13
Sweet baby Jesus, Lexi thought when she looked through the peephole. Marc was hot.
Still staring her fill, and reminding herself that drooling was not her best look, she smoothed down her dress—her Neiman dress that made her butt look a size smaller and her boobs two sizes bigger. It was a silky green and matched her eyes, had cost Jeffery a pretty penny, and she had been dying to wear it since she came back to town. It was her charge-it-to-my-husband’s-account, Alexis-Moreau-is-back, you’re-going-to-get-lucky-tonight dress. She’d bought it to impress the town, but tonight she only hoped to wow the bad boy next door.
The boy next door, who happened to be leaning against her porch rail, arms crossed, badass smile in place. Then there was the way his too-tempting pair of low-hung button-fly jeans hugged his thighs and how those dark eyes of his seemed to be staring right at her, which was impossible, since the door was closed.
“I know I’m pretty damn sexy, but could you speed up the gawking? Although flattering, it’s hot out here,” Marc said, smiling.
Lexi jumped back, her hand over her mouth. There was no way he could see her. First because the hole was tiny, and second, that would be way too embarrassing.
Cautious not to make a sound, she looked through the hole again. Maybe he was just making a lucky guess.
His smile widened, and he gave her a wink. “I can see you through the peephole, cream puff.”
Taking three steps back, she turned toward the stairs and yelled, “Coming,” hoping that it would sound like she was upstairs. “Just getting my—” She looked down. She was fully dressed, so she slipped off a heel. “Shoes. Just getting my shoes.”