Oh, my heavens…
I would never get tired of looking at his chest. My mouth went dry as I stared at the sloping planes of his pecs, the smooth musculature of his shoulders and rock-hard arms. The top button of his jeans was unfastened, displaying the tantalizing ridges of his abdomen disappearing beneath the waistband. I wondered if he was wearing boxers or briefs. Or nothing at all.
I swallowed hard.
“Your turn.” A mixture of restraint and lust gleamed in his eyes.
“Um…” I looked at the board, trying to find a vowel. “I… I’ll have to skip a turn.”
“Too bad.”
I took my time selecting a letter to replace, then glanced warily at Dean. He was looking at my breasts. Oh, he wasn’t going to let me off the hook.
His gorgeous chest moved with his quicker breathing. I curled my fingers into my palms against the urge to touch him. I wanted to feel his taut skin, to rub my hands over him and…
“Liv,” he prompted, his voice lowering an octave.
Dammit. I took hold of my shirt. If only the rules included some form of touching…
Wait a second.
I lifted my gaze to him, a wicked idea sparking. My stomach clenched with nerves.
I couldn’t.
Could I?
I pushed slowly to my feet, my breath hitching. His eyes followed me, but stayed focused on my breasts. My hands shook as I moved them behind my waist. With one quick rasp, I unfastened the zipper of my skirt.
Dean’s breath escaped him as his eyes collided with mine. My heart crashed against my ribs. I started to slide the skirt over my hips.
“This was your idea,” I reminded him, grabbing a burst of courage as I pushed the skirt down and let it pool at my feet. My shirt was just long enough to cover the top of my mons, but otherwise I was naked from the waist down. And trembling.
“Christ, Liv…” Dean’s hoarse whisper made my blood quiver. He stared at the juncture of my thighs, the curves of my hips. Just his gaze alone made desire pool in my sex, and I fought the urge to squirm.
“Um… your turn.” I sank to my knees next to the coffee table, which concealed my nakedness from him, but the fact that he was sitting across from me with his shirt off and...
“I can’t fucking think,” Dean muttered. He stared at the Scrabble board. A sheen of sweat gleamed on his forehead.
“No touching,” I whispered. I was starting to throb. “You made the rules.”
“Yeah, so I can change them.”
I drew in a breath, but managed to shake my head. “No way.”
We played a few more rounds, both somehow keeping our scores to at least five points. Before long I had the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to see Dean take his jeans off. I also wasn’t certain I’d be able to strip more than I already had, but then I took the last tile.
Disappointment lanced through me. I looked at Dean.
“Game over,” I said.
He swore, dropping his head into his hands.
“Your rules,” I reminded him.
While his head was still lowered, I slithered back into my skirt and panties.
“But,” I continued, “the game’s over now.”
He lifted his head.
“And you never said anything about no touching after the game.” My stomach knotted with both nervousness and excitement as I approached him. “Right?”
He didn’t respond, his gaze hot on mine. He hadn’t put his shirt on yet, and I surrendered to the urge to run my hand over his smooth shoulder. His muscles bunched beneath my palm.
Before I could sink onto the sofa beside him, he gripped the backs of my thighs and pulled me closer into the V of his legs. I stared down at him, his thick hair glossy in the light, the straight ridge of his nose, and slope of his chest.
His big hands slid beneath my skirt. I gasped. Shivers coursed through my entire body as he stroked upward to splay his hands over my cotton-clad rear. He slipped a finger beneath the elastic and touched the crevice of my bottom.
My whole body weakened. I clutched his shoulders to steady myself. He took hold of my panties and pulled them down my legs until they were tangled around my knees. He grasped my hips and pulled me down onto his lap. I settled sideways against him, into the half-circle of his strong arm supporting my back.
He lowered his head, his mouth capturing mine in a deep kiss that heated my blood. I tucked my hands into his hair and spread my legs against the constriction of my underwear. He pushed my skirt up and pressed his hand to my sex.
“Fuck, Liv, you’re so wet…” Dean’s breath warmed my skin as he moved his lips to my neck.
I shifted, inhaling sharply when he circled a finger around my clit. Beneath me, his erection pressed against my thigh. I spread my hand over his chest, tracing the ridges of his muscles, feeling the pulsing beat of his heart.
I sought his mouth again and sank into his kiss, arching my hips to meet his stroking fingers. Urgency laced my lower body. He stroked a finger up one side of my folds, around my clit, down the other side…
I broke away from Dean with a gasp and stared at him. His lust-dark eyes burned into mine.