He dragged long, slow strokes against his erection, building in intensity with her hungry stares.
“You were right. I enjoyed your hands on me. I enjoyed your mouth on me, too.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “Of course I did. Ford, since you’re oblivious to the fact that you’ve been propositioned by your former students because they want to fuck you, let me make it obvious—you’re fucking hot, and it honestly makes me hate you even more than I already do. I think about kissing you all the time . . . about doing many things with you. So . . .” She took a step closer. “Did you like kissing me?”
There was a surprising nervousness in her voice at the question. Could she really not tell how much he enjoyed her lips?
“I think about kissing you all the time, too, often because I think it might get you to shut the hell up,” he said with his lips upturned. Luckily, she smiled. “But most of the time, I want to kiss you because you’re gorgeous, and brilliant, and you . . . and you comfort me. Sometimes those things make me forget that I’m supposed to hate you. So, yes, Corrie . . . yes, I liked kissing you.”
“Show it to me,” she commanded.
Maintaining his rhythm and pressure, he moved the shirt then reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, then began stroking again as she watched and began to untie her robe. With slow movements, she opened the robe, revealing her fabulous body to him. Even better than he’d imagined. Full, round breasts barely concealed by that ridiculous bra. Her dark nipples beaming through. Wide, full hips. A soft tummy, toned but not too skinny. No, Corrie Mejía had curves, and her body was sexy as hell.
Her fingers danced over her flesh as she caressed her body. Two fingers swirled in circles along the outside of her bra, outlining her now-hard nipples, while her other hand trailed down into her panties and started massaging her clit.
Oh, fuck this.
Ford stood and pulled Corrie onto the bed so her back was flush with the mattress as he hovered over her. Her robe fell open, welcoming him to her body. “May I?” he asked, his hand hovering over her bra.
“Only if you kiss me first.”
He pressed his lips against hers, savoring every movement of her mouth and tongue, before having the divine pleasure of cupping Corrie Mejía’s breasts. No other breasts in his lifetime could—or would—compare. His mouth left hers, planting kisses down her neck and chest before stopping at that scandalous bra. He ran his tongue along the curve of her breasts before sucking on her nipple through the practically nonexistent fabric. She arched her back and moaned as the scratchy lace twisted around her nipple in his mouth.
He dragged the fabric down with his fingers, now fully taking her swollen bud between his lips. With quick flicks, he lapped against her nipple as his hands traveled all over her body, outlining every curve. Every inch of her. Every spot better than the last. Ford had never touched a woman so incredible. Someone he wanted to please as much as he wanted to please Corrie.
His hand grazed her stomach before diving beneath her panties and between her folds. Fuck. She was wet. So very. Very. Wet.
Ford’s eyes practically rolled in the back of his head as his fingers glided along her slippery entrance. Was she always like this? Did he do this to her? Boring Ford Matthews?
He released her breast from his mouth and scooted down the bed toward her panty line. Kneeling in front of her, he took a good look. Her hair splayed out in a fan on his bed. Her half-naked body resting in her open robe. Her rich, dark eyes staring at him with a foreign intensity. Something was clearly on her mind.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Not what he was expecting to come from her lips.
“Okay.” Was there really any other answer?
“Do you have any condoms?”
Annnnnnd no. No, he didn’t. And why would he? He hadn’t had sex in years, and the only two women he’d planned on interacting with on this trip were Sunny and Agnes, neither of whom were options.
“No,” he finally said.
“Dammit. Do you think Ethan has any?”
“I have no idea, but I’m not going to ask him.”
“Then how are you going to fuck me?”
Good question. How was he going to fuck her? Because this could very well be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who knew how things would be between them by the morning with the way they ran so hot and cold? But he wasn’t about to suggest they go without one. He had no idea how Corrie would take such a suggestion and he didn’t want to upset her.
“I can order some.”
Ford closed his eyes, wincing the moment the words came out of his mouth. Order some? Seriously? How unsexy could he be?
“You really know how to turn a lady on,” she said. He could hear the smirk in her voice. Her body shifted as she pulled her legs out from under him.
Yep. He’d killed his chances. She was leaving.
But when he opened his eyes expecting to find her putting on her robe, he found the opposite. Instead, she kneeled in front of him, her robe now completely off.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“I thought you were going to leave.”
“Leave? Ford, I want you to fuck me, but just because that’s not going to happen tonight doesn’t mean I’m going to leave. I’m horny. I’m wet. And the thought of having to postpone the inevitable boning is making me even more so.”
Ford couldn’t help but laugh. “Inevitable boning?”
She smiled and inched closer. “Yes. This is happening, Ford. Even if I left right now, you know what would happen.” She placed her hand on Ford’s pecs and trickled her fingers lightly along his chest and abs. “We’d both walk away from this sexually frustrated. We’d get into an argument about something ridiculous, because that’s what we do. And then one of us would eventually kiss the other again. And we’d be right back here, ripping each other’s clothes off, because we both know this is an eight-year-old itch that needs to be scratched.”
Her hand reached into his boxers and wrapped around his cock, causing him to suck in a deep breath. Her delicate, slender fingers glided over his firm flesh. That, coupled with the look in her eye . . . heaven. Absolute heaven.
Ford brushed her hair behind her shoulders and wrapped his hand behind her neck. “Calling me an itch? You really know how to turn a man on.”