other, yanking off her black ankle boots and socks. Every once in awhile he’d stroke her calf or leg as if trying to warm her up. With the heat inside in full-on mode, she was already getting back feeling in her limbs, but McKenna didn’t tell him that. She liked his rough hands on her, gentle and coaxing.
When he’d removed her boots, Ren paused and looked up at her, his face tight, that one good eye searching.
He knew. He had to have seen the footage, but he didn’t speak so McKenna did it for him.
“Go on,” she urged. “Ask what you want to know.”
A muscle jumped in his scarred cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Did you see the footage from the camera in his office?”
He didn’t blink. “Yes.”
McKenna nodded. “Then you know I’m not.”
Ren flinched. “McKenna.” He stroked her thighs, his huge, warm palms sending tingles to her belly and lower still. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged away his apology. “Don’t be.”
He broke eye contact, his attention zeroing in somewhere on her middle. “Your jeans are soaked through. You should change out of them.” He didn’t budge and neither did McKenna.
“Take ' em off.”
The air around them appeared to still, frozen in place at her words. Ren didn’t look at her, his face was level with her hip. He looked like he hadn’t taken a breath in a long while. McKenna waited, heart thumping against her ribcage in a furious beat.
Ren moved. Deft fingers unbuttoned her jeans, knuckles grazing the flat skin of her belly as he pulled the zipper down and down. McKenna tipped her head up, blinking madly at the ceiling she knew was there but couldn’t see. Ren tugged the wet jeans off her hips, leaning back when she lifted her hips to better ease the way. He was careful, gentle, but his touch, the brief connection between his skin and hers, kindled a fire that started in her center and spread rapidly.
He pulled the piece of clothing free then threw it aside. She opened her eyes when the wet, muted plop sounded, and looked down. He sat back on his haunches, heavy color spreading over his neck and face. She didn’t think he was blushing, but he didn’t look into her eyes for her to be sure. His attention was on her panties, the lace riding low on her hips. As McKenna regarded him, Ren reached out a hand and dragged his knuckles over her left hip bone.
Breath stuttered in her lungs. He touched her again, knuckles staying on her skin longer as he traced an invisible line from her hip down her thigh to her knee. Her pulse clamored, racing all at once. She opened her mouth to speak, but he chose that moment to look up at her and she found she couldn’t locate words. Instead she used her eyes, communicating her wants silently.
He must have gotten the message because his nostrils flared and he licked his lips. McKenna reached down and touched his face, the scarred side, cupping him as she stroked her thumb over the raised scars. As she held him, he leaned forward in painfully slow increments, ultimately burying his face in her crotch.
Breath escaped her in a whoosh. Oh God. His hot breath burned through her panties and sank into her skin, melting her from the inside. Need soaked her crotch and scented the air.
Please. Please. She chanted the words in her head, too cowardly to voice them out loud. Again, he must have heard them, because he mouthed her, right there, tasting her through the underwear.
McKenna bucked.
Ren growled.
She scrambled for balance when her knees threatened to collapse, pulling on his short hair. His tongue flicked over her, over the lace. She lifted her hips in a blatant invite that he accepted by tugging her panties down and off. She barely had time to assimilate before he was back, his hot, wet mouth on her, insistent as he licked her core.
Cries left her throat with each swipe of his tongue over her clit and outer lips. His fingers dug into her skin when he raised her right leg over his shoulder. McKenna held on, clawing at his
When he’d removed her boots, Ren paused and looked up at her, his face tight, that one good eye searching.
He knew. He had to have seen the footage, but he didn’t speak so McKenna did it for him.
“Go on,” she urged. “Ask what you want to know.”
A muscle jumped in his scarred cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Did you see the footage from the camera in his office?”
He didn’t blink. “Yes.”
McKenna nodded. “Then you know I’m not.”
Ren flinched. “McKenna.” He stroked her thighs, his huge, warm palms sending tingles to her belly and lower still. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged away his apology. “Don’t be.”
He broke eye contact, his attention zeroing in somewhere on her middle. “Your jeans are soaked through. You should change out of them.” He didn’t budge and neither did McKenna.
“Take ' em off.”
The air around them appeared to still, frozen in place at her words. Ren didn’t look at her, his face was level with her hip. He looked like he hadn’t taken a breath in a long while. McKenna waited, heart thumping against her ribcage in a furious beat.
Ren moved. Deft fingers unbuttoned her jeans, knuckles grazing the flat skin of her belly as he pulled the zipper down and down. McKenna tipped her head up, blinking madly at the ceiling she knew was there but couldn’t see. Ren tugged the wet jeans off her hips, leaning back when she lifted her hips to better ease the way. He was careful, gentle, but his touch, the brief connection between his skin and hers, kindled a fire that started in her center and spread rapidly.
He pulled the piece of clothing free then threw it aside. She opened her eyes when the wet, muted plop sounded, and looked down. He sat back on his haunches, heavy color spreading over his neck and face. She didn’t think he was blushing, but he didn’t look into her eyes for her to be sure. His attention was on her panties, the lace riding low on her hips. As McKenna regarded him, Ren reached out a hand and dragged his knuckles over her left hip bone.
Breath stuttered in her lungs. He touched her again, knuckles staying on her skin longer as he traced an invisible line from her hip down her thigh to her knee. Her pulse clamored, racing all at once. She opened her mouth to speak, but he chose that moment to look up at her and she found she couldn’t locate words. Instead she used her eyes, communicating her wants silently.
He must have gotten the message because his nostrils flared and he licked his lips. McKenna reached down and touched his face, the scarred side, cupping him as she stroked her thumb over the raised scars. As she held him, he leaned forward in painfully slow increments, ultimately burying his face in her crotch.
Breath escaped her in a whoosh. Oh God. His hot breath burned through her panties and sank into her skin, melting her from the inside. Need soaked her crotch and scented the air.
Please. Please. She chanted the words in her head, too cowardly to voice them out loud. Again, he must have heard them, because he mouthed her, right there, tasting her through the underwear.
McKenna bucked.
Ren growled.
She scrambled for balance when her knees threatened to collapse, pulling on his short hair. His tongue flicked over her, over the lace. She lifted her hips in a blatant invite that he accepted by tugging her panties down and off. She barely had time to assimilate before he was back, his hot, wet mouth on her, insistent as he licked her core.
Cries left her throat with each swipe of his tongue over her clit and outer lips. His fingers dug into her skin when he raised her right leg over his shoulder. McKenna held on, clawing at his
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