Tailored for Trouble (Happy Pants #1) - Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Page 0,88

the mosquito netting around the bed dance.

He shrugged. “If I did that, I’d miss watching you get dressed.”

She blinked.

“Or getting naked?” He grinned.

Her entire body quaked. Be calm. You are a raft. You like being a raft. Rivers are awesome.

“I-I thought you weren’t interested in that,” she said nervously.

“I never said I wasn’t. I only said it wasn’t the reason I brought you here. I wanted to let you see the real me first. Then let you decide if you wanted to be with a man who is…”

“Complicated?” she asked.

“Yes. However,” he rubbed his chin, “now I find myself thinking about the fact that you traveled all this way for sex. I feel obliged to consider the option.”

“About that. I need to apologize for what just happened. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’m here for whatever you want or need. I really mean that.”

He stepped closer to her. “Well, you are practically naked, standing there looking beautiful, and extremely tempting with that giant towel wrapped around your head.” He reached and gave the towel a tug, releasing her wet hair down the center of her back. “Mmmm…even better.” Then he leaned down and kissed her, making her forget everything she’d thought about in the bathroom. He’d wanted to tell her something, right?

His silky, hot tongue delved between her slightly parted lips, and having just that small piece of him inside her body made her knees go weak and the blood rush straight to her core.

His hands slipped to her waist and tugged her body closer, making her sharply aware of how much bigger he was. He was dominating her with that wicked kiss, heating her with his large, towering body.

His tongue slid against hers, and she rose to her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, wanting to feel his torso flush against her, his lips more firmly pressed to her mouth.

His fingers slowly moved to the thick belt around her waist and he untied it. She felt the front of her robe fall open, the warm air on her bare breasts and belly, his hands sliding against her naked skin. Meanwhile, his kiss deepened, the rhythm more demanding as his hands slowly traveled up and cupped her breasts.

Her breath caught in her throat the moment his rough thumbs passed over her nipples causing them to harden into little pearls, the sensation simultaneously triggering an erotic clenching deep inside. Well, if this is what he needs, who am I to argue?

“You’re so soft,” he whispered against her lips, gently massaging her breasts.

“It’s because they’re real,” she replied, smiling into the searing hot kisses.

He pulled away from her lips and stared into her eyes. “Why are you shaking?”

“I’m nervous. It’s been a while.”

The corner of his wet lips curled into a hint of a smile. “I hear it’s like riding a bike.”

She’d seen the size of his penis, and that was no bike; it was more like a recreational vehicle.

He slipped the robe off her shoulders, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her feet. His eyes washed over her body, drinking her in while she just stood there watching him. She wanted to reach for him, feel his hands on her skin, see him naked, his hard muscles pulsing with eager tension, but she couldn’t move.

He held out his hand, and she hesitated for a moment. Why wasn’t he undressing? But she took it anyway, unable to deny his request, and he walked her over to the vanity where he turned her around to face the mirror. His tall frame shadowed her curvy smaller body.

For the split second that she stood there, naked in front of the mirror, hearing only the sound of her frantically beating heart and the gentle rhythm of the ceiling fan, she felt like running for her robe. But then she caught the hard lust in Bennett’s eyes as he looked at the front of her in the mirror. It was too symbolic of what she’d been thinking in the bathroom—of having to be stripped down naked, no baggage, no expectations, if she truly wanted to see Bennett for who he was.

She relaxed her shoulders and allowed the sensation of being in the moment to take over. He’s my river.

His strong hands slid to her hips, and he watched himself in the mirror as he explored the feminine curves of her waist and breasts. She’d never felt so raw and exposed to a man, and the sensation was just as terrifying as