back.
Chapter Six
He didn’t mean to do it. But nothing in that long, shitty afternoon was right until Mindy’s soft lips parted, and those big spaniel-brown eyes rounded, and she whispered, “I got pictures.”
And then it just happened—his tiger roared inside him and his brain froze as he grabbed hold of her face and laid one on her.
Then she kissed him back. Not a granny peck or a good-bye-and-good-luck smack, but head-tilting, tongue searching, scorching hot mouth-to-mouth that obliterated his brain altogether.
He had no idea how long that went on. It could have been the hottest minute in history—or it could have been half an hour, but it would never be enough—they fell apart, clothing awry, breathing shaky. He had a four-hundred horsepower boner, and she looked at him with those eyes of hers, framed by wild curls, her lips soft and parted, her nipples straining against that halter top.
“Five miles,” he managed. “My friend loaned me his house. It’s empty. Five miles away, on the other side of the hills.” He looked at her, his entire body frozen in inarticulate question.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Afterward he never remembered how he managed to get to JP’s house. All he knew was they made it to the guest room after stopping to kiss in the garage, the laundry room off the garage, the kitchen, the hallway, and then they reached the guest room, after leaving a trail of shoes, socks, his jacket, her purse and sandals, his shirt, and there they were, standing before the bed he’d made Marine-style before leaving that morning.
Her mouth, sweet and soft as peaches and cream, shook as he plundered it, then she came back at him biting, nipping, licking. He was hazily aware of his hands drifting down the silk of her dress to cup her wonderful ass, and oh, then he slid his palms under the hem, to find her totally naked.
His brain exploded. “You are so damn hot,” he muttered into her lips. He picked her up and threw her on the bed. “For three days I’ve wanted . . .”
“What?” she asked, smiling as she rolled to her knees, then did that marvelous thing as she shrugged out of her dress and flung it.
“This.” He eased her back on the bed and knelt between her knees, which she obligingly widened, her eyes glittering with heat.
He started on the inside of one knee, kissing softly, slowly, deliberately. Her skin was silkier than silk, warm and there was no fucking way she wasn’t wearing some billion dollar scent from Paris, because she smelled so damn good he found himself moving faster as he traced up her thigh to the sweet hollow there.
She made a little noise that zinged straight to his cock, which was already rock hard. But that could damn well wait. Because he was not going to miss a second here—and with lips, teeth, and tongue, set about driving her wild, until those little noises reached higher and higher with each breath she took.
And when her body trembled, her back arched, he licked slowly around her clit as he slid two fingers inside her warm, wet folds. He sensed her shuddering on the knife edge, and sucked her over the brink. She clenched hard on the bedclothes, and he caressed her as she came down, then moved up to lie next to her, his fingers tracing over her trembling belly and up to caress her breasts.
“M-m-m-m, good as that feels,” she murmured, “I think it’s my turn.”
She pounced upright in one of those sudden, sprightly moves of hers and pushed him flat. Then she knelt between his legs and leaned over to slowly pull the zipper down.
His cock was so hard it was nearly painful as it strained against the confining fabric. It sprang free, the air making him jump.
She flashed him a triumphant grin, then rolled off the bed entirely, putting her hands to the hem of his pants.
He lifted his hips and she yanked his trousers off, and then slowly slid his boxers down before climbing to sit astride his legs. She ooohed down at his cock as though
Chapter Six
He didn’t mean to do it. But nothing in that long, shitty afternoon was right until Mindy’s soft lips parted, and those big spaniel-brown eyes rounded, and she whispered, “I got pictures.”
And then it just happened—his tiger roared inside him and his brain froze as he grabbed hold of her face and laid one on her.
Then she kissed him back. Not a granny peck or a good-bye-and-good-luck smack, but head-tilting, tongue searching, scorching hot mouth-to-mouth that obliterated his brain altogether.
He had no idea how long that went on. It could have been the hottest minute in history—or it could have been half an hour, but it would never be enough—they fell apart, clothing awry, breathing shaky. He had a four-hundred horsepower boner, and she looked at him with those eyes of hers, framed by wild curls, her lips soft and parted, her nipples straining against that halter top.
“Five miles,” he managed. “My friend loaned me his house. It’s empty. Five miles away, on the other side of the hills.” He looked at her, his entire body frozen in inarticulate question.
“Yes,” she breathed.
Afterward he never remembered how he managed to get to JP’s house. All he knew was they made it to the guest room after stopping to kiss in the garage, the laundry room off the garage, the kitchen, the hallway, and then they reached the guest room, after leaving a trail of shoes, socks, his jacket, her purse and sandals, his shirt, and there they were, standing before the bed he’d made Marine-style before leaving that morning.
Her mouth, sweet and soft as peaches and cream, shook as he plundered it, then she came back at him biting, nipping, licking. He was hazily aware of his hands drifting down the silk of her dress to cup her wonderful ass, and oh, then he slid his palms under the hem, to find her totally naked.
His brain exploded. “You are so damn hot,” he muttered into her lips. He picked her up and threw her on the bed. “For three days I’ve wanted . . .”
“What?” she asked, smiling as she rolled to her knees, then did that marvelous thing as she shrugged out of her dress and flung it.
“This.” He eased her back on the bed and knelt between her knees, which she obligingly widened, her eyes glittering with heat.
He started on the inside of one knee, kissing softly, slowly, deliberately. Her skin was silkier than silk, warm and there was no fucking way she wasn’t wearing some billion dollar scent from Paris, because she smelled so damn good he found himself moving faster as he traced up her thigh to the sweet hollow there.
She made a little noise that zinged straight to his cock, which was already rock hard. But that could damn well wait. Because he was not going to miss a second here—and with lips, teeth, and tongue, set about driving her wild, until those little noises reached higher and higher with each breath she took.
And when her body trembled, her back arched, he licked slowly around her clit as he slid two fingers inside her warm, wet folds. He sensed her shuddering on the knife edge, and sucked her over the brink. She clenched hard on the bedclothes, and he caressed her as she came down, then moved up to lie next to her, his fingers tracing over her trembling belly and up to caress her breasts.
“M-m-m-m, good as that feels,” she murmured, “I think it’s my turn.”
She pounced upright in one of those sudden, sprightly moves of hers and pushed him flat. Then she knelt between his legs and leaned over to slowly pull the zipper down.
His cock was so hard it was nearly painful as it strained against the confining fabric. It sprang free, the air making him jump.
She flashed him a triumphant grin, then rolled off the bed entirely, putting her hands to the hem of his pants.
He lifted his hips and she yanked his trousers off, and then slowly slid his boxers down before climbing to sit astride his legs. She ooohed down at his cock as though
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