Maybe that should embarrass her. But it didn’t. Even if it had been a while since she’d last had it, she’d always liked sex. And there wasn’t a part of her that doubted that sex with Nick Rixey would be absolutely mind-blowing. The only question was why he kept pulling back, when it seemed clear he was interested.
If there was one thing all the losses in her life had taught her it was that life was short, fleeting, and way too precious to waste waiting around for happiness to hit you over the head and make itself known. Happiness wasn’t something you found, happiness was something you made—by living in the moment, by cherishing the people in your life right now, by finding the courage to change those things you didn’t like. She hadn’t always gotten it right the last year or two, and that had to change. Starting now.
As these thoughts raced through her mind, a familiar pang of guilt settled in her heart for Charlie. But they would find him. She absolutely refused to entertain any other outcome. And, then, maybe after . . .
Yeah. After.
Nick shifted, rolling closer, if that was possible, and her just barely restrained lust broke free. The change in his position brought his erection against her hip. And, Jesus, he was big. Imagining taking all that masculine flesh into her hands, her mouth, her core had her suddenly light-headed, despite lying down. As if that weren’t enough, when he’d moved closer, the thick cords of his thigh had pressed squarely against the junction of her legs. Summoning all her willpower, she forced herself to lie perfectly still. Because if she lifted her hips even an inch, the friction of his body pressing so intimately and deliciously against her clit would make her come.
He sniffed and murmured, and his breathing slowly changed from the slow, shallow draws of sleep to the deeper pattern of wakefulness. “What are you thinking so hard about?” he said, his voice a seductive, raw gravel.
“Nothing,” she whispered.
“Bad liar, remember?”
She smiled. Not even awake and he was already a smart-ass. “You’re laying on me.”
He lifted his head, eyes still soft with sleep and oh so bright. “Er, oh, God, Bec—”
“Don’t move, please? I wasn’t complaining.”
“Then what—”
“It’s just . . .” The way he was looking at her, half concerned, half like he might make her every dream come true, had her spilling a fast stream of honesty that was about five point two light-years beyond oversharing. “I’m horny. And you’re hot as hell. And we’re clearly trying to be good. Although, I’m not sure why, exactly. And, anyway, I don’t want you to move. Because I like the feel of you. And I—”
His mouth swallowed the rest of the nonsense spilling from her lips. The kiss was aggressive and needful, his tongue twining with hers, his hands in her hair, his chest atop her breasts. For a long moment, she was so stunned by the kiss that all she could do was give in to the sensual assault. His leg pressed between her legs, hard against her clit, the bunching and shifting of his muscles shoving her step by step closer to the edge of restraint. A stream of moans and whimpers worked their way up her throat until finally she couldn’t stop her hips from dancing against his thigh.
“Nick,” she rasped around the edge of a kiss. “Oh, God.”
“What?” he said, pulling back. He stroked his nose over her cheek to her ear. “What’s the matter?” He eased his thigh away.
Her whimper was full of protest for the loss of him. The sexy bastard chuckled. “Don’t stop,” she managed.
Tracing his tongue around the shell of her ear, he rocked his hips against her nice and slow. “Don’t stop what?”
Becca swallowed roughly, arousal making it hard to breathe, hard to think. “You’re teasing me.”
He chuffed out another small laugh in her ear, casting shivers over her skin. “I am.”
Digging her fingers into his hair, she grasped two handfuls and held tight. “Well, don’t. I want . . .”
Nick’s tongue was in her mouth again, exploring every wet corner and stealing her breath. He pulled back, panting. “What? What do you want, sunshine?”
The nickname tugged her heart into the action, too. Did he realize he said it? “I like when you call me that.”
He bit her bottom lip and tugged, his gaze boring into hers, one eyebrow arched. “What do you want?”
She pulled his wrist from her face and guided his hand to the heat between her legs. With only her panties separating his skin from hers, no doubt he could feel it.
“Jesus,” he ground out, his forehead falling upon hers and those bright green eyes absolutely on fire. “You want to come?”
“Yes.”