every intention of liking sex with Judah.
He lowered his head and nuzzled the exact same spot on her neck that Sean had rasped his face over earlier.
Nothing happened to her body in response.
Nothing
.
Katie decided to cut to the chase. She grabbed his head and tilted it up to lock her mouth over his.
He made a noise, satisfied and male, and kissed her back. His lips tasted like tequila and lime, which was excellent. She threaded her fingers into his hair.
He had such great hair. He’d showered before she came up here, and when he answered the door his hair had still been shiny-damp, gleaming under the track lights.
Come to think of it, wasn’t it still gleaming? It felt kind of stiff under her fingers, like he’d put something in it. Gel? Or one of those pomades her stylist was always trying to sell her?
Whatever it was, his hair looked fantastic, and it smelled good, too. Like hot sun and beach and … rosemary? Anise? She nibbled his lip and took a deep breath, wanting one more shot at classifying precisely what sort of delicious he was, and her nose wrinkled up.
Shit
. She was going to—
She sneezed. Thank God, she got her hand up in time, but still, right in his face. How embarrassing.
“Sorry,” she said. “Can we try that again?”
Judah smiled, and she smiled right back at him. She couldn’t help it. He was so damned good-looking when he smiled. Smooth skin, amazing cheekbones, perfect lips … So what if his kiss didn’t set her loins aflame? So what? It was a totally adequate kiss. Totally adequate kisses led to totally adequate sex, which would be totally adequate to her purposes.
He kissed her again, and this time she opened her mouth to receive his tongue, ready for it to be wonderful.
His tongue was wet.
Everybody’s tongue was wet, though, right? And it had been a long time since she’d kissed somebody with tongue. A very long time. Maybe she’d forgotten how messy French kissing was. Once they got under way, she’d be more into it, and she wouldn’t notice the saliva-swapping aspect of this encounter quite so much.
Judah leaned into the kiss, pressing her into the couch. His nose pushed up against her nose, and she couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to carry on breathing and kissing him at the same time. She tried moving her head to one side, but he followed her, and then she tried the other side and that worked.
Right. Good
. Now she could concentrate.
Katie closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his hand stroking down her arm, closing over her breast.
And kneading.
She’d never been able to see the point of the kneading. Her breast was not a lump of dough. Having it mashed around did nothing for her.
She arched her back, hoping to encourage a little nipple play, but Judah didn’t take the hint. He just gave her more kneading, which, in combination with the thrusts of his overlarge, overwet tongue into her mouth and the fact that he’d pushed his nose against hers again, sort of made her want to smack him.
In fairness, it probably wasn’t his fault. Her sex life had become a sad, solitary thing, utterly reliant on her right hand and whatever hot moment she’d plucked out of the week’s eroticnovel or soft-focus TV sex scene. What if she’d reconditioned herself to respond only to fictional sex?
It was a disturbing possibility, and one she had to consider, because here she was with the Sexiest Cock Alive in range, and she wasn’t feeling any zing.
Her junk was broken.
Unless it just needed a kick start?
She rifled through her mental files, trying to come up with some reliable wank material. That scene where the ex-con lumberjack nailed the meek librarian in the stacks? Or the one where the bad-boy Kiwi did dirty things to his sweet, innocent best friend?
Her brain gave her Sean’s hard face and soft mouth. His big hands. The disturbing look in his eyes right before he kissed her. The look that said,
You belong to me, and I’m going to have
He lowered his head and nuzzled the exact same spot on her neck that Sean had rasped his face over earlier.
Nothing happened to her body in response.
Nothing
.
Katie decided to cut to the chase. She grabbed his head and tilted it up to lock her mouth over his.
He made a noise, satisfied and male, and kissed her back. His lips tasted like tequila and lime, which was excellent. She threaded her fingers into his hair.
He had such great hair. He’d showered before she came up here, and when he answered the door his hair had still been shiny-damp, gleaming under the track lights.
Come to think of it, wasn’t it still gleaming? It felt kind of stiff under her fingers, like he’d put something in it. Gel? Or one of those pomades her stylist was always trying to sell her?
Whatever it was, his hair looked fantastic, and it smelled good, too. Like hot sun and beach and … rosemary? Anise? She nibbled his lip and took a deep breath, wanting one more shot at classifying precisely what sort of delicious he was, and her nose wrinkled up.
Shit
. She was going to—
She sneezed. Thank God, she got her hand up in time, but still, right in his face. How embarrassing.
“Sorry,” she said. “Can we try that again?”
Judah smiled, and she smiled right back at him. She couldn’t help it. He was so damned good-looking when he smiled. Smooth skin, amazing cheekbones, perfect lips … So what if his kiss didn’t set her loins aflame? So what? It was a totally adequate kiss. Totally adequate kisses led to totally adequate sex, which would be totally adequate to her purposes.
He kissed her again, and this time she opened her mouth to receive his tongue, ready for it to be wonderful.
His tongue was wet.
Everybody’s tongue was wet, though, right? And it had been a long time since she’d kissed somebody with tongue. A very long time. Maybe she’d forgotten how messy French kissing was. Once they got under way, she’d be more into it, and she wouldn’t notice the saliva-swapping aspect of this encounter quite so much.
Judah leaned into the kiss, pressing her into the couch. His nose pushed up against her nose, and she couldn’t figure out how she was supposed to carry on breathing and kissing him at the same time. She tried moving her head to one side, but he followed her, and then she tried the other side and that worked.
Right. Good
. Now she could concentrate.
Katie closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his hand stroking down her arm, closing over her breast.
And kneading.
She’d never been able to see the point of the kneading. Her breast was not a lump of dough. Having it mashed around did nothing for her.
She arched her back, hoping to encourage a little nipple play, but Judah didn’t take the hint. He just gave her more kneading, which, in combination with the thrusts of his overlarge, overwet tongue into her mouth and the fact that he’d pushed his nose against hers again, sort of made her want to smack him.
In fairness, it probably wasn’t his fault. Her sex life had become a sad, solitary thing, utterly reliant on her right hand and whatever hot moment she’d plucked out of the week’s eroticnovel or soft-focus TV sex scene. What if she’d reconditioned herself to respond only to fictional sex?
It was a disturbing possibility, and one she had to consider, because here she was with the Sexiest Cock Alive in range, and she wasn’t feeling any zing.
Her junk was broken.
Unless it just needed a kick start?
She rifled through her mental files, trying to come up with some reliable wank material. That scene where the ex-con lumberjack nailed the meek librarian in the stacks? Or the one where the bad-boy Kiwi did dirty things to his sweet, innocent best friend?
Her brain gave her Sean’s hard face and soft mouth. His big hands. The disturbing look in his eyes right before he kissed her. The look that said,
You belong to me, and I’m going to have
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