Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

He grinned. “Yes, I am.”


Yes, he was, she thought, giving herself over to the feel of his mouth against hers and his tongue slipping past her lips. She hung on as he kicked the front door closed, then moved his hands under her sweater.

Her body already anticipated the pleasure that would follow. The slow, steady road to arousal, of how he would touch and lick and tease every inch of her. She trembled slightly as she thought about the laughing argument they would have about who got to be on top and the way their rapid breathing synchronized as they got closer and closer. How he held off until he was sure she’d fallen over the edge of the world and then how he followed her.

Once they were in the living room, she pulled off her sweater. He took it from her and dropped it onto a chair. While she pulled off her shoes and socks, he did the same. She unfastened his jeans and he ripped off his sweatshirt. Her jeans and thong followed, because for them, the fun didn’t start until they were both naked.

“Me,” she breathed, moving behind him.

“Me” meaning she got to be in charge. She got to say when and how.

He growled his complaint but didn’t protest.

As she stopped directly behind him, she noticed all the perfection that was his body. Not that there weren’t cuts and bruises. You couldn’t do what he did in a day and not have physical evidence. There were also scars—a couple she thought might be bullet wounds. Not that he would tell her. Ford simply didn’t talk about what he’d done in the military.

But he knew how to work out so every inch of him was honed muscle. Now she placed her hands in the center of his back and slid out and down, over his narrow hips, before grabbing his butt and squeezing.

She got close and pressed the front of her body against the back of his. She cupped her br**sts in her hands and lightly dragged her tight ni**les against his back. He sucked in his breath.

After she dropped back to his hips, she eased her hand around to his front. She leaned her cheek against his back and closed her eyes, then explored as much as she could reach. His chest, his rib cage. She danced her fingers against his ni**les before sliding down his belly to his erection.

Her eyes still closed, her face still pressed against his back, she began to move the way he’d taught her. The way she’d watched him please himself one evening after they’d shared a bath. He’d stretched out on the bed, with her sitting next to him, not touching him, just watching as he took himself over the edge.

She’d been too shy to return the favor, despite how turned on she’d been, so he’d gone down on her, bringing her to orgasm in about thirty seconds. But a few days later, she’d managed to put on her own show, at halftime with a football game on TV. Ford had told her it had been by far the best play of the game.

Now she moved up and down, steadily increasing the speed, focusing on the tension she felt building in his body and the increase in his breathing.

Heat moved through her, making her want to squirm closer and rub against him. Blood hummed as her excitement grew. She was swelling—she could feel it. Getting ready for him. The thought of him pushing inside her, filling her, made her own breath catch.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away, then spun toward her. Before she knew what he had planned, he was lifting her onto the sofa table and spreading her legs.

He filled her with one long, powerful thrust. She groaned as she arched back, taking all of him into her. When they were pressed together, groin to groin, she wrapped her legs around his hips and held him close.

“Now you’ll never get away,” she said with a smile.

He cupped her br**sts in his hands and rubbed his thumbs against her ni**les. “Why would I want to?”

He kissed her then, deeply, his tongue moving against hers. She ran her fingers along his shoulder and the back of his neck. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. There was almost a fierceness to his embrace. Not from aggression, she thought, hugging him back, but from some need he would never name.

He was still hard, still inside her, but the moment had shifted. They weren’t having sex. This was about connecting, and it shook her far more than any orgasm.

She clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. Not speaking. Completely still. Then he began to move again.

He withdrew and filled her over and over. He shifted his hands so he was cupping her face.

“Look at me,” he breathed.

She opened her eyes and stared into his. Emotions chased across his face, but they changed too fast for her to read them. She still hung on to him, feeling her body begin the journey to pleasure.