Wrapped Up in You - Jill Shalvis Page 0,53

thighs, he cocked his head to take in the sight of her standing there in a black lace bralette and a matching black lace thong and let out a rough groan.

She put her hands over his to shove her jeans the rest of the way off, but he merely twisted his wrists and took her hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth to brush a kiss over her knuckles. Then he picked her up and set her ass onto the coffee table. Dropping to his knees before her, he slowly pulled her jeans the rest of the way off before tossing them aside.

When his hands settled on her thighs and gently urged them open, creating a space for him, she readily complied with a happy noise, because now, finally, they were going to get to the good stuff.

“Yes,” he murmured on a rough laugh against her throat, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. “The good stuff is coming. And so will you.”

She shivered in anticipation, making him groan. Belly-to-belly now, chest-to-chest, the inside of her thighs cradling his hips, he slid his hands up her arms, her throat, and into her hair.

And then he finally kissed her again.

The whole time moving so slowly she was at once quivering with anticipation and sheer frustration.

“Patience,” he whispered against her mouth. Still amused, damn him.

Okay, yes, so she’d not been standing in line the day patience had been handed out, but seriously. How long could he drag this on for?

A long time, as it turned out. First, he kissed her until she was panting and writhing against him and rocking up into his hands every time they swept over her. And they did this with slow, purposeful intent, his thumbs stroking over the dainty little lace bra that wasn’t doing much to keep her breasts contained, until she honestly couldn’t remember why she’d held him off. Hell, she couldn’t remember her own name.

Somehow she’d managed to get his jeans unbuttoned and filled her hands with what she desperately wanted inside her, and by his reaction, he felt the same.

He had a strap of her bralette down one shoulder, a mouth on her breast, his tongue and teeth teasing her nipple, whipping her into a whole new kind of desperate frenzy, when she couldn’t take anymore. Tearing her mouth free, she fisted her hands in his hair and lifted his head.

His eyes were two hot molten pools of dark chocolate.

“What’s the male version of a cock tease?” she demanded. “A vagina tease? Stop being a vagina tease!”

“What seems to be the exact problem?” he asked, his voice sex-on-a-stick.

Was he kidding? “We’re still wearing too many damn clothes and you’re not inside me!”

His hands slid to her ass, and thanks to the thong, she felt his warm, work roughened fingers squeeze bare cheeks as he rose, her clinging to him. She’d never been so grateful for such tightly enclosed living arrangements in her life because he had only to turn to climb onto her bed. Her back hit the mattress and when she felt him laughing, she looked up at him standing at the foot of the bed.

“You have so many pillows, I’m not sure I’m going to fit on there with you,” he said.

Oh yes, he would, and to prove it, she began pushing pillows off the bed to the floor in earnest, in a hurry to get him where she wanted him most. This made him only laugh harder, which he was going to pay for. When she kicked the last pillow off, she got up on her knees and slid her hands south, wrapping her fingers around him and stroking.

He stopped laughing, nudged her flat to her back, and set a knee on the bed. With a smug smile, she bent her leg and put a foot to his chest. “Still overdressed, cowboy.”

Taking the hint, he backed off the bed and stripped out of the rest of his clothes. When he was magnificently naked—and she did mean magnificently, the guy was a work of art—he once again put a knee on the bed. “Now who’s overdressed?”

She began to tug her bralette off with haste. But here was the thing with bralettes . . . they didn’t have any hooks. It was an over the head deal, which was fine if you were alone getting dressed in the morning. No one had to witness the stupid, awkward maneuvers one had to go through to get the thing in place.

Getting it