Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,47

touching her, and more of her is exposed as the tub drains. The bubbles leave sudsy patches that slide over her skin. She grabs one of my hands and moves it down her body as her hips lift and emerge from the water.

I’m going to hell. A special one for grown men who fuck their beautiful best friends when they know it’ll ruin everything.

My fingers slip between her thighs and it’s my turn to groan. “You’re so wet.”

“It’s a bathtub.”

I laugh tightly. “That’s not why you’re wet. You want this.” I stroke a line down her pussy and she sucks in a breath.

Am I actually going to finger fuck this woman in a bathtub?

I pull my hand back and she turns to face me, leaving her chin and elbows on the tub as she watches with hungry, half-lidded eyes. “Why are you stopping?”

“This is a bad idea.”

“You’re right. We should do it in bed.” She rises up naked and steps out, dripping her way across the tile.

I rub a hand through my hair, admiring her bare curves…

At least until she slips.

My grin is gone as I lunge, catching her arm and lifting her.

"You're a menace," I mutter as I carry her across the room.

She laughs breathlessly, playing with my collar and leaving wet patches on my shirt before I set her on the bed. “Only to myself.”

Untrue. She’s taking me apart and she hasn’t even touched me yet.

Her skin is pebbling from the cool air outside of the bath. I grab a towel and run it lightly over her breast, then the other, spending extra time on the peaked nipples until her breath is rough.

After they’re dry, I move lower. She bites her lip.

“How do you like to be fucked?”

“Slow.”

I pull her thighs open and rub the towel between her legs. She inches wider, an invitation I can’t refuse.

I trace the line of her slit, rewarded by her hiccup of breath.

I do the same thing again, just to show her I’m in control even if I’m not.

All I can think is that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, the one who challenges me and looks out for me and teases me, is spread wide for me. She’s here and perfect and I want to devour her.

I will. I'm fucking tired of denying this. We can have it, and I’ll make it so damn good she’ll say my name every time she comes for months.

I'll make it so good, it lasts—not only the sex, but this indefinable feeling of rightness.

I rub my thumb through her wetness and up over her clit. Daisy’s hips buck hard. I do it again and she writhes. Then she props up on her elbows to watch.

“Don’t stop.” She catches her lip between her teeth and I’m jealous because I want to taste it, suck on it, bite it for myself.

I lift my fingers to her lips, press them against her until she opens and sucks.

Blood races to my already hard dick as I groan. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

When she releases my fingers with a pop, I trace down her body, settling between her thighs. I want to feel her stretch around me, watch her squirm. My thumb rubbing her clit once more, I press two fingers where she’s wettest and watch them sink inside.

She fists the bedsheets as I fill her. I absorb her scent, her breathy sounds, the way she writhes beneath me. There’s nothing hotter than watching the most capable woman I know make room for me in her body, and in her life.

The stakes are more than sex.

But tonight, I'm done holding back.

15

This isn’t happening.

I’m not naked on a hotel bed, my best friend kneeling between my legs.

If there’s a dictionary entry for hot, it’s this man, his dark eyes wicked, his tux jacket and vest off, and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he fingers me.

Today was a trip, spending time with him and feeling what it could be like between us. Feeling like all his attention was on me was a heady thing.

Not nearly as heady as the fact that Ben is between my thighs, watching me as if I’m every filthy fantasy he’s ever had.

When he presses two fingers right where I’m wet, the firm pressure never stopping until his knuckles brush my skin, I tremble.

He curls those fingers and I arch up off the bed.

“Jesus, Ben,” I gasp, my hands fisting in the duvet.

His thumb rubs wicked circles that match the hungry expression on his