Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

“Sure.”


She opened her mouth, then closed it. Repeating “people don’t do that” seemed silly. “Would you do that, too? With me watching?”

“Sure.”

The idea of him touching himself with her right there was oddly exciting. What else did couples do in bed that she didn’t know about? She had a feeling Ford would be happy to tell her all about it.

He tapped the back of her hand. “Back to business, young lady.”

She did as he requested. With the first stroke, she felt the familiar tension return. Then he eased into her.

Ford was both long and thick. He stretched her, pushing in until her legs fell open more. Nerve endings cooed in delight at the friction. He withdrew and pushed in again.

There was no counting this time, no need to busy her mind. Her body understood what was happening and hurried toward the path. She touched herself as he’d taught her, keeping time with him. They both moved faster and faster. She started to lose control as pressure built up inside her.

Without thinking, she dropped her hand and held on to him. She wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him in closer. He surged harder, thrust deeper and the first ripple of her release washed over her.

He quickly followed, opening his eyes to stare into hers as they both surrendered to the pleasure they shared.

* * *

ISABEL STOOD IN her shower the following morning and did her best not to break into spontaneous song. Because she so could. She could sing and dance, and she wouldn’t be the least surprised if little woodland creatures were waiting in her bedroom to help her dress.

Because it was that kind of morning. The sun was shining, the earth rotating, and she had spent the night having orgasm after orgasm.

Maybe that made her a shallow person, but she could live with the judgment. The things Ford had done to her had been spectacular. She hadn’t known her body was capable of such pleasure. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t figured it all out before. Of course, she and Billy had both been young and the horde had been a one-night kind of thing that had left her feeling icky. With Eric, well, she’d already dissected those problems.

She turned off the water and got out of the shower. After drying off, she wrapped herself in her robe and opened the bathroom door. And screamed.

Ford was standing right there.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she asked, pressing a hand to her chest. Her heart pounded hard against her rib cage.

“I brought you coffee.”

She took the offered mug, then glanced down and realized he was not only naked but erect. Anticipation sent heat rushing all through her.

She turned, set down the coffee, dropped her robe on the floor and stepped into his arms. He was kissing her and moving her back at the same time.

After he shoved the coffee to the back of the vanity, he lifted her up to the counter and spread her legs. She reached between them and guided him inside.

He filled her in a single stroke.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and nibbled at his jaw. “Hard,” she instructed, already halfway to her release. “Don’t hold back.”

“You’re my kind of girl.”

She brought his hands to her br**sts and arched her head back. As he pumped in and out, he squeezed her ni**les. Less than a minute later, she was flying, crying out her release. He followed quickly.

When they were done, they stayed where they were, trying to catch their breath.

“You’re going to kill me,” he told her.

“Is that a complaint?”

He grinned and kissed her. “No. It’s a challenge.”

* * *

FORD SPUN SLOWLY in his seat. Justice looked up from his notes.

“Are we keeping you from something?”

“Nope,” Ford said easily, doing his best not to grin. Mostly because he didn’t want questions, but if ever there was a morning to be a happy guy, this was it.

Isabel had been a revelation. Sweet and sexy. When she’d come apart in his arms... He shook his head. There weren’t any words. He just knew it was the best feeling ever.

Consuelo looked at him. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re too happy. It’s annoying.”

Angel grunted. “You were supposed to have dinner with Clyde and his wife last night. He’s a potential client.”

“More than potential now,” Ford told him. “He’s coming in later to sign on the dotted line.”

He reached for a sheet of paper, crumpled it up and tossed it into the trash can. “Score one for me.”

“That was your handout for the meeting,” Justice told him.

“I’ll share with someone else.”

Consuelo continued to glare at him. “I’m going to hurt you later.”

As they had a workout planned at three that afternoon, there was every chance she was telling the truth. Not that he cared. He could still please Isabel with a broken leg or arm.