“Jesus.” It’s all I can say.
“Or your *. Your sweet, pink,”—he kisses the dip in my waist—”*. Always so wet for me.” The tip of his tongue glides downward, scattering pleasure in its wake. “I think about that every time I drive over here.” He sucks the tender skin at the small of my back. “How tight and wet you’ll be for me.”
His words are crude. I should protest. I can’t. He’s turned my body against me. It has become this languid thing, stretching and undulating into his touch like a cat to sunlight. I’m so hot my skin actually shivers. But he doesn’t stop. Of course not.
The truth is, I don’t want him to. Nothing has felt better than this.
“And then there’s your ass.” He lets out a long appreciative groan that makes me blush. Not that he’s noticed. He’s too busy mauling me. “This ass.” His big hands palm either side of my butt and squeeze.
“Drew!”
“Shh.” He gives my butt a light slap, and I blush harder at the resulting wiggle of flesh. While he hums. “I’m having a moment.” His voice goes husky. “With this fucking perfect ass.”
“It is not!” Though I’m happy with my body, I know what it is and what it isn’t.
“Ah, Jones,” he tuts, “you’re just fishing for compliments now.” He gives my left butt cheek a feather-light kiss.
“I’m simply being honest, you goober.”
Another kiss lands on my skin. “You’re blind. Your ass. Jesus, your whole body...” He pauses, his mouth just touching the point where my back swoops up to meet my butt. “Nothing compares, Jones.”
I’m struck breathless. He’s the one who is incomparable.
“I’ve seen the girls you’ve been with, Baylor.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wince. It’s stupid to call them to mind. But I’ve said it, so I’ve got to finish. “You cannot claim that my body is…” I was wrong; I can’t say the rest.
And by the way his hands tighten on my waist, I don’t think he wants me to either. When he speaks, it’s quiet but insistent. “The fact that I’m finding it hard to even recall another woman ought to tell you something.”
“Yeah, well…Shit.”
Slowly, he laughs. “You’re never going to win this argument.”
“Oh, no?”
“No. Because you’re begging the question.” His palm smoothes down my hip and then back up. “It is my opinion that your ass is perfect. Ergo, your ass is perfect to me.”
I can’t help laughing. “I cannot believe you’re pulling out philosophical constructs now.”
“Believe it, baby.” Happiness and a certain smugness lighten his voice. “I like debating with you.”
I like it too. More than I should. I like him. “You realize I can use the same argument? Seeing as you’ve made the state of my ass a question of personal preference rather than a discussion of empirical facts.”
He chuckles, the laugh muffled by his lips pressed to my skin.
“And, anyway,” I add just a bit strangled, “you’re cheating.”
“How?” But he sounds like he knows perfectly well how. He just doesn’t care.
“You attack only after putting me in this weakened condition.”
I’m proven correct when he grins. “I’m a competitor. What did you expect?”
“Not your face in my butt,” I mutter. But his attention and care feel so damn good that I don’t want it to end. Ever. I want to lie here and let him do what he wants to me until I can’t remember my name. Or his. So of course, idiot that I am, I tense up further.
“Relax, Jones,” he whispers, his fingers lightly tickling me as they drift along. “You can handle it.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not having your ass inspected at close range.”
Another chuckle rumbles. “You can inspect my ass. I won’t mind.”
“Baylor…” I warn.