Feeling Hot (Out of Uniform #7)

Jen practically floated to the bed, her pulse speeding up when Cash sank to his knees in front of her. He slid her stilettos off one by one, then moved his fingers beneath the hem of her dress and rolled the fabric up her legs. When her thigh-high stockings were revealed, he groaned.

“Oh, I like these,” he rasped, trailing his fingers over the sheer stockings.

Anticipation built inside her as Cash slowly unrolled each stocking, his fingers leaving a trail of heat along her skin. He ran his hands over her bare legs, then bunched the hem of her dress with his fists and slid the fabric up and over her head.

Left in a black strapless bra and skimpy panties, she met Cash’s eyes. The longing and appreciation on his face made her palms go damp and her heart beat faster.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he murmured.

“Only about, oh, a hundred times already.”

“Let’s make it a hundred and one then. You’re beautiful, Jen.”

He looked beautiful himself, his eyes shining in the candlelight, his gorgeous face softer than she’d ever seen it.

Her throat clogged with emotion. Her heart squeezed. Her hands trembled. God, something was happening. The way he was looking at her, the tenderness with which he touched her… She sensed something changing between them, but she was too scared to label it, too scared to let it fully sink in.

“Lie back,” he said.

Swallowing, she lay back, watching as he stood up and began removing his clothes. He tossed his jacket aside, and then his long fingers unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off his broad shoulders, leaving him gloriously bare-chested. Her heart pounded when his trousers and boxers hit the floor. His impressive arousal jutted proudly, making her mouth water.

When he climbed on the bed and stretched out beside her, she tried to reach for his erection, but he gently moved her hand away. “Not yet. This is about you.”

And boy, was it ever.

Cash spent the next hour so focused on her body, on her pleasure, that Jen nearly went out of her mind. His soft lips trailed kisses over every inch of her skin, exploring, teasing, bringing her to the brink only to retreat before she toppled over it. He made love to her with his mouth, his tongue, his hands, and he did it in a slow, thorough pace that threatened her sanity. He didn’t leave an inch of flesh unexplored, and each brush of his hungry lips and flick of his hot tongue made her shiver. She was overcome with sensation, gasping for air and mumbling gibberish by the time he allowed her what she needed.

He brought her to climax with his mouth, feasting on her until she thrashed on the mattress and begged for mercy. Her body hummed with pleasure, her heart pounded ceaselessly, and she was so sated she could barely move.

“Come up here,” she whispered, reaching for him.

Cash slid up her body and cradled her cheeks with his hands. His blue eyes glimmered with need, his erection heavy against her stomach. Without a word, he lowered his head and kissed her so deeply and methodically that her brain turned to mush. Despite the fact that she’d just climaxed, tension built in her core again, a dull ache that only Cash could ease.

His powerful chest heaved as he sucked in a breath. “I need you, Jen.”

He donned a condom, gently parted her legs and slid into her aching sex.

The orgasm caught her by complete surprise. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight while a flash flood of pleasure swept her away to a plane where only sheer bliss and Cash McCoy existed. Although she was gasping and shuddering beneath him, he didn’t pick up the pace, just moved in a slow, languid rhythm that seemed incongruous considering the violent waves of release crashing through her.

When she opened her eyes, she found Cash watching her with an indefinable expression. “I love watching you come apart like that,” he said huskily.

He rolled his hips, hitting a delicious spot inside her, then increased his sinful tempo, but not by much. She was in awe of his control, the restraint he used as he slowly moved inside her. His features were so taut, the tendons in his neck strained, as if he was dying to let go but wanted to make it last. The only sounds in the room were their ragged breathing, the soft squeak of the bedsprings and the wet suction of his shaft sliding in and out of her heat.

Jen’s heartbeat vibrated against her breasts. “You’re not talking,” she murmured.

He stilled. “What?”

“No dirty talk,” she clarified. “The room was so quiet, and I realized it’s because you’re not talking. You’re not telling me all the dirty things you want to do to me or how much you love fucking me.” She searched his face. “Why?”

His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed. “Maybe because…because this doesn’t feel like fucking.”

Before she could even attempt to make sense of that, he took possession of her mouth and kissed her, driving his cock into her again and reigniting her passion.