“Yes, but I didn’t know that then. I saw you walking toward me. My heart rate kicked up. But you went past, didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge me. I was disappointed.”
“That is such bullshit,” he said. “You didn’t give me a second’s notice.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
“Really?”
“Hmm. I thought, ‘Bad boy alert.’”
“What’s that mean exactly?”
“Dangerously sexy.”
“Keep talking.”
She laughed and raised her head, propping her chin on his sternum. “I’ve said enough. You get the idea.”
“I couldn’t get enough of looking at your ass. On that bar stool? Oh man. And I smelled your perfume. Made me want to bury my face in your neck. And in your cleavage.” Turning his voice smoky, he said, “I think you can guess where else.”
She ducked her head shyly then came up and looked into his face, outlining the C on his chin. “Are you ever going to tell me how you got this?”
“One of Panella’s guys.”
“One you had to—”
“Yeah. He was a knife man. I defended myself with a nine-millimeter, but not before he got in one good swipe.”
“My God, Shaw. How can you be so blasé about it? He could have disfigured you.”
“He did.”
She kissed the scar, then whispered against his lips. “How little you know.”
Keeping their lips together, he said, “One thing I know…your thumb is the second best thing that’s ever happened to my cock.”
“Please. I’m blushing.”
“And you blush in all the best places. Come here.”
He motioned her up until he could reach her nipple with his mouth. Under the brush of his lips, it hardened instantly, but he worried it with his tongue until he felt her belly quickening against his. He moved to the other breast. God, they were perfect.
So was her ass, which his hands lightly stroked, then firmly gripped when that thumb of hers discovered a tear of semen leaking from his slit and spread it over the tip. “Jesus, Jordie.” His head fell back onto the pillow. He didn’t believe he could possibly be more aroused, until he noticed her nipples, erect and glossed from his mouth. “Wet looks good on you.”
“How does it look on you?”
A tidal wave of lust surged through him as she began inching down his front. She pecked kisses across the center of his chest, ruffled his chest hair by blowing through it softly, brought his hips up off the bed when her tongue delicately flicked his nipple.
Her hair slid across his belly like a veil of silk. When she got even with the wound she’d inflicted, she looked up at him with remorse and tenderly kissed the bandage.
She moved lower and nuzzled his navel, whisked her lips back and forth across the line of hair that tapered down from it. Then her face hovered above him for an etern
ity. He could feel her breath; he held his.
First the damp velvet touch of her lips, then glancing caresses of her tongue, and, at last, she took him into her mouth.
His erotic hallucinations had been nothing compared to the real thing. Unlike the porn star Jordie of his dreams, the real one was more giving, less expert, and all the sweeter for it.
His hands fisted in the sheets, but after a time, he couldn’t help but grip one handful of her hair. Sweat broke from every pore. He growled her name in appeal. For what, he wasn’t sure.