Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,54
so peaceful. Not an ounce of hardness to be found in his face, just the simple masculine lines of his straight nose and the angular contours of his stubble-covered jaw. She reached out and traced her finger along the faded scar that ran between his lower lip and chin.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her heart beating faster, getting a rush from being so close to him.
Like petting a sleeping lion.
“So are you,” he mumbled back.
She snapped her hand away. “Bennett?” she said quietly. “You awake?”
“Wayan would like you,” he said, and rolled over, giving her his back.
She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. You can’t keep drooling over him, Tay. You’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak. Fact was, Bennett was a complicated man with sharp edges. His own mother admitted that he had some serious baggage that prevented him from letting people get close.
Taylor didn’t want to let him in only to find that his scar tissue was just too thick. And, in any case, he didn’t seem to be a relationship sort of man.
All reasoning aside, however, Taylor felt herself liking him more and more. The quiet kindness, the loyalty he showed toward others, his really big balls—in the metaphorical sense, of course. Although, she didn’t doubt he probably matched up in the literal sense, too.
But he’s no saint, Tay. Remember that.
Taylor closed her eyes. In the morning, she’d ask Bennett about the bet and why he’d lied to her about Lady Mary. Then she’d decide once and for all if she’d be going home and cutting ties or continuing on the trip.
She rolled over and kicked off her shoes. Then she turned off the lamp and immediately drifted off to sleep.
—
Sometime during the night, Taylor felt a slight chill on her bare hip and the warmth of a body pressed to her back.
Her eyes opened with a startle. “Bennett?” she whispered. She turned her head. The streetlight coming through the window cast a gentle white glow over his body. Not only was the man spooning her, but at some point he’d removed his shirt and pants, and had managed to hike up her dress around her waist, wrapping his strong arm around her midsection, holding her tightly against him.
Oh, crap. That feels so incredible. She wasn’t sure if it was because he touched her in a way that instantly fired up all sorts of erotic impulses below the belt, or because he was almost naked in bed with her, or because she felt his erection eagerly prodding her ass. Probably all three.
She blew out a breath. Okay, don’t get all flustered. He’s exhausted and probably doesn’t realize he is in bed with me.
“Mmmm…” he groaned, in a deep, sensually male voice, nuzzling the back of her neck with his lips, the short whiskers on his face tickling her skin and creating a violent wave of goose bumps over her body. Her nipples instantly hardened, and she clenched her eyes shut. Oh Lord, what’s he trying to do to me?
“Mmmm…” he groaned again. “You smell so good.”
She turned her head just a notch. Yep, the man was still asleep. At least, he appeared to be.
Okay, what do I do? Uh, why am I debating this? I need to get up and go sleep on the couch. She started to roll away, but he tightened his grip, this time using the leverage to grind himself against her ass.
Her eyes rolled in her head. Only two thin layers of fabric—her panties and his boxers—separated his shaft from her bare ass, or, really, that little valley right between her cheeks.
Oh God. He feels so good. Hard, thick, and hot against her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex, and she’d certainly never been with a man like Bennett, who was large, lean, and muscular everywhere. I bet he’s the demanding, take control, and give for hours kind of guy. Yes, he had to be. Bennett Wade was far too proud a man not to be a fuck-god in bed.
He placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the nape of her neck, and it sent a throbbing wave of hard, needy aches right to her bud and into the sad, empty space in her core. The rest of her body sizzled, her pulse circulating a million miles an hour, her breath just shy of a sex-pant. If she didn’t stop him now, she might actually let him finish his sexy dream any way he liked.