“Not for food.”
His hand slid up my thigh, taking the hem of my dress with it.
My stomach did a dip.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“I was asleep,” I stated the obvious.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I was, I’m not anymore.”
“Oh.”
Yikes.
His hand came up more and his head bent so he could touch his mouth to my neck.
“How’s your man?” I asked.
“Alive,” he said to the skin below my ear. “Critical but he’s a fighter.” His tongue touched my skin and I shivered.
“That’s good, I guess.”
“Do you wanna go to bed?”
“Yes,” I told him.
He lifted his head and his hand slid around my thigh, going under the fabric of my dress. The tips of his fingers glided across the edge of my panties at my leg.
“Let me rephrase that, do you wanna go to sleep?”
Was he high? Did I want to go to sleep? What kind of question was that?
I tried to be cool.
“Not really.”
He smiled The Smile.
My stomach melted.
“Good,” he said then he kissed me.
It was a fucking great kiss, long, slow, deep and hot. When it was over, his mouth slid across my cheek, down my neck and across my collarbone. His hand at my waist went up my back and he tugged at my hair, making me expose my neck and then his tongue dipped into the indentation at the base of my throat.
He let go of my hair, his hand cupped the back of my head and he kissed me again. A repeat of the first but better, lots of tongue. One of his hands was holding my head, the other one went to slide across my breast over the fabric of my dress.
This was all well and good, in fact it was beautiful. The problem was, Lee was acting like we had all the time in the world. He was acting like, at any moment, the door buzzer wasn’t going to buzz out some secret code tearing him away, leaving me high and dry, or, more to the point, panting and wet.
I pushed up, changed position and straddled his hips. I yanked his t-shirt free of his jeans and pulled it over his head, throwing it wherever. I slid my hands down his chest, scratching his abs just a touch with my nails, watching his muscles tighten reflexively, and I went straight for the button fly on his jeans.
I got the top button undone when his hands grabbed my wrists and stopped them.
My eyes went to his and I saw the crinkles deepened at the corners.
“In a hurry?” he asked.
“Uh…” I said in a “duh” tone, “yeah.”
“There’s no need to rush.” He pulled my hands away, let them go and slid his up my sides.
“You were in a rush this morning,” I told him as he watched his hands slide up, then stop at the sides of my breasts. His right hand curled and he slid his knuckles along the side right to the nipple. It hardened and he watched that too.
I bit my lip at the shock that went from nipple to nether region then said, impatiently, “Lee.”
His eyes moved from my breasts to my face.
“This morning was different.”
“Different, how?”
“I’m a guy,” he said as if that explained it and it kind of did. I’d never known a man who didn’t wake up with one thing on his mind, usually ready for that thing before his eyes opened.
“Well, how it was for you this morning is how it is for me now,” I told him, my hands going back to his fly.
His hands went again to my wrists and he pulled them behind my back.
“I thought you wanted to take this slow,” he said.
I could swear I heard laughter in his voice.
Bastard.
“How about this? You do it your way, I’ll do it mine,” I suggested.
His eyes locked on mine.
“This should be interesting.”
“Damn straight,” I muttered.
I kissed him. I knew he liked the way I kissed, he’d told me so and, so far, he hadn’t lied to me.
He responded immediately.
He let my wrists go and put his arms around me.
My hands went back to his fly, but instead of opening it, I slid my palm against it, feeling the length of him. It felt nice, real nice.
His hands went to my waist, he flipped me on my back on the couch and covered me with his body. I grabbed at his shoulders to hold on and lost my previously won position.
He kissed me, topping it by his hand going to cup my breast, his thumb sliding across my nipple, his finger joining his thumb and he began a delicious roll using the satin of my dress to deepen the friction.
Wow.
As in, wow.
I lifted a knee for leverage, his hips fell between my legs, I wrapped the other leg around him, held on to his shoulder with one hand, pushed my other elbow in the couch as I braced my weight with my foot, bucked and rolled.
We fell off the couch, him with a grunt on his back, me on top.
I lifted up before he could recover, straddling him again. I bent over, arching my back, my mouth on his chest, sliding my lips, scraping my teeth, across, down, my tongue tracing the definition in the muscles of his abs. He tasted good, his skin felt nice over hard muscle.