Built (Saints of Denver, #1)

We were covered in paint, but Sayer didn’t protest. Instead she kissed me back and tunneled her fingers in the shaggy hair at the back of my neck, for sure leaving a trail of white paint all over me, while I continued to eat at her mouth and pressed my bare chest into hers. The thin cotton of her top did little to keep the points of her lush breasts from rubbing across my skin, and I knew that even though she deserved a four-poster bed and silk sheets, she was about to get rough and raw up against a wall. I had told her we could do better, but now I wasn’t so sure, because as she whimpered into my mouth as I started to pull on the edge of her top, I couldn’t remember anything ever being more amazing or all-consuming than even this simple touch with her.

I wasn’t nearly as covered in the white primer as she was. I had the drying spot on my arm where she hit me with the roller and a few spots on the back of my hands and across my chest where she had touched me, so I was careful when I started to pull her top off not to get any more of the stuff on me. I wanted to touch her—everywhere—and that meant I needed to keep my hands as clean as possible.

When I pulled back from her hungry mouth our eyes locked as the stretchy and tight material cleared the top of her blond head. I sucked in a breath because she was so pretty and perfect she almost didn’t seem real. Girls like her, with wide blue eyes, a perfect pink blush, skin softer than a flower petal, and a set of breasts topped with the sweetest, perkiest pink nipples weren’t for guys like me . . . at least not normally. She was even more flawless seminaked, ruffled up, and flushed than she was in her power suits with her professional cloak firmly in place. I was careful not to break delicate things that I knew would cost a fortune to replace. I knew just how to handle them . . . and how to handle her if the way she moaned and pulled at me with impatient hands was any indication.

I grinned at her as her fingers tightened in my hair. I bent my head so that I could nip at the curve of her jaw and lifted my hands so that I could brush the pads of my thumbs over the crest of both straining tips. “Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to taste these the last time I was this close to you? I bet they’re as sweet as they look.”

Her eyelids fluttered a little and I saw her bite down on her bottom lip. She shivered in my grasp and I could see that indecision that was so weighty start to creep into her eyes as she watched me. Her chest rose and fell against my own, which had my dick kicking painfully behind my zipper. I wasn’t going to let her doubt interfere with what had been so long coming, so I dropped my head and pulled one stiff peak into my mouth. She was tall, even in her running shoes, and I couldn’t remember any other time I had lined up with anyone else quite as well. I still had to bend down, but the new position meant I could pull her hips tightly into mine and that there was room to work one of my hands under the elastic top of her workout pants.

She moaned and I heard her head thunk back against the wall as I gripped her naked backside and ground my erection against her soft center. I was happy to find that there was nothing, not a single stitch of clothing, between my questing fingers and her baby-soft skin.

I brushed my beard softly across her chest and scraped the edge of my teeth lightly over the velvety nipple I had trapped between my lips. “No underwear?” To say I was surprised was an understatement. She seemed far more proper and buttoned up than that. I let my fingers glide over the firm swell of her ass and then danced them around the front under the stretchy fabric. I wanted to give a little cheer of victory when she moved her leg to the side to give me more room. She had to know where my final destination was and she was all but giving me the green light to keep going.

I moved my mouth to the other breast and her hands fell from my hair to my shoulders. Her fingernails bit into the taut skin there and she was breathless when she replied. “I wasn’t planning on anyone finding that out. I couldn’t find anything else to wear that seemed suitable. I don’t keep things around that I can ruin, because I never really get dirty.”

She was wrong about that. She was about to get all kinds of dirty, and not just because she was covered in paint.

“Getting dirty is fun, Sayer.” I put my mouth on the pulse that was fluttering like a trapped bird on the side of her neck. I let my teeth sink into it at the same time as my exploring fingers found that hot, damp place between her legs. I leaned in closer to her and her entire body jerked as I slid my fingers through her slick outer folds. Not only did the woman look flawless, she felt that way, too. Silky, hot, slippery, and smooth. She was made up of all kinds of tempting things I couldn’t wait to feel around more than just my fingers.

She gasped my name and I heard the question in it. There was no answer I could give her other than that this was bound to happen, so I just moved my head up to kiss her again and let my fingers slip all the way inside her grasping body. It was a hold I never wanted to pull away from.