anything she asked of him. He groaned, reaching for her, but she moved backward, sitting on the edge of the bed and then lying back, her pale skin glowing with shifting shades of pearl and amber. She was offering her body to him. Every part. And something suddenly occurred to Reed. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing slightly. “I don’t have any condoms.”
She stared at him for a moment and then looked past him to the door of his bedroom. “My purse. It’s in the hall.”
He nodded, walking from the room and retrieving her small purse from near the door. He brought it to her and she opened the snap, reaching in and retrieving a condom, and then tossing her purse on the floor. He watched her do all this from where he stood at the end of the bed, taking a moment to stare at her, to drink her in. So beautiful. He felt a snag in his chest. There was something vulnerable about her despite that she had initiated this, despite that she had obviously come prepared. What was it? He couldn’t say. Just this vague notion that he sometimes got when he was working a case. Something his instincts had noticed before his mind could provide an explanation. She was watching him watch her, and when their eyes met, she beckoned him with her hand, nodding to his jeans, nervousness skittering across her expression. He removed his jeans quickly, joining her where she lay, their naked skin meeting, warmth melding, atoms meshing.
“What are you thinking?” he whispered when he joined her on the bed, kissing the swell of one breast, moving a finger over the white lace of her bra.
She released a pleasured sigh. “I’m hoping you’re better at this than you are at dancing.”
He laughed, but it turned into a moan when her hand gripped his erection, stroking it more fully. God, he could die of pleasure right here.
He opened the front clasp on her bra, her breasts spilling free. Full. Beautiful. Rose-tipped nipples begging for his mouth. He’d shaved that morning, but he knew that if he reached up and felt his jaw, it’d be roughened with stubble. He ran it lightly over the sensitive skin of her breasts. She shivered, tipping her head into the pillow as she fisted the sheets and he soothed her with his mouth, kissing, sucking, switching between each breast until she was writhing beneath him.
He slipped her underwear down her hips and she lifted so he could remove it swiftly and toss it onto the floor. He moved up her body, kissing her mouth once, and then leaning away as he dipped a finger between her legs, using the slippery liquid he found there to help his fingers glide slowly over the spot that caused her to gasp and moan and press toward his hand, seeking more. “Tell me your name,” he said.
Her face was turned away from him, hair strewn across her cheek, bottom lip beneath her top teeth. A short tremble moved through her, and then she was turning her body, lifting, and he moved with her so she was on her knees and he was leaned over her. “Fuck me, Spence,” she breathed.
He had a moment of pause. He wanted to look at her as they had sex. He wanted to watch her face. This first time at least. But he didn’t press the issue. They had all night and he was more concerned with giving her what she wanted. Anything she asked him for. He grabbed the condom from beside them and tore it open with his teeth, pulled it on. He leaned over her, molding his body to hers, his hardness pressed against the soft, wet place she was offering him. She moaned, arching her back. A request. Fuck me. “My name is Reed.”
She moaned again. “Nice to meet you, Reed. Now fuck me.”
He leaned back, watching as he pushed inside her slowly, his toes curling as her hot, slick body grasped his. “God, you feel good.” He grasped her hips as he started to move. Steadily. Slowly. The up-close visual of their joining added to the stimulation and his brain went fuzzy as sensations swirled and rolled inside him, overlapping, competing, merging, and then becoming separate. She grabbed hold of his headboard and thrust back against him, forcing him to pick up the speed and their sex turned wild. Primal. Skin slapping, sweat pooling, moans and gasps—his, hers, he didn’t know—mixing