In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)

His mouth followed his hands, and that was even better. As he kissed and nipped over the sensitive skin of her belly, his fingers hooked into the sides of her panties. He skimmed them down her legs and off, and Daisy tensed when she realized she was completely naked.

“Wait…” she started, but then his fingers and his mouth landed between her legs. “Oh! I changed my mind. Don’t wait! Please, don’t wait.”

The vibration of his chuckles against her made her squirm and clutch handfuls of his hair again. As the tension built, she tugged harder. A tiny part of her worried that she was hurting him, but she was too caught up in the new and crazily intense pleasure to let go.

“Am I—oh!” She jolted at an especially electric touch of his tongue.

He lifted his head just enough to ask, “Are you…what?”

As his breath blew against her most sensitive spot, she forgot for a moment what she was about to say. “Am I pulling too—mm, that’s nice—hard?”

The feel of his husky laughter almost made her levitate. “No.” His teeth lightly scored her inner thigh, and she sucked in an audible breath. “It’s making me hot.”

She liked that, liked that she was doing something to turn him on. It was wonderful being on the receiving end of his ministrations, but she wanted to give, too. Knowing that he was just as excited added to her pleasure, and soon she was lost again to sensation.

Chris seemed to know exactly what to do, where and how to touch her in the best way. Pressure built inside her as her blood rushed faster and her skin heated. She couldn’t keep still, but twisted and writhed underneath him, tugging at his hair. Her body bowed upward as she came, pleasure surging through her until it was her entire world. Eventually, she collapsed back onto the bed in a boneless heap.

Her fingers ached as she released his hair, petting the strands in remorse. “Sorry I pulled your hair so hard.” Even to her own ears, she sounded a little drunk.

He crawled to lie next to her, propping himself up on an elbow. To her relief, he was smiling. “I told you it didn’t hurt.” Leaning down, he kissed the corner of her mouth. “I liked it.”

“You’re weird.” She smiled back. As her body recovered, she expected Chris to start kissing and touching her again, but he just played with a strand of her hair and occasionally kissed odd places, like the bridge of her nose or her chin. When she shivered, he went hunting for the covers that had gotten tossed aside in the excitement and pulled them over both of them.

Turning onto her side, Daisy looked at him, a little confused. “Um…is that it?”

His grin was devilish. “What’s wrong? Did I leave you unsatisfied?” The last word was almost a purr, and it made her clench her thighs together.

“No. I’m very satisfied.” Her glance darted to approximately midway down his covered body. “But you weren’t.”

That time, his kiss glanced off her ear. “I’m fine. Next time, I’ll come prepared.”

“Prepared?” It took her a few seconds before she figured it out, which made her feel a little slow. “Oh! Right. Sorry. I’m not prepared either.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I didn’t expect you’d be.”

For some reason, his assumption annoyed her a little. “Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll add it to the grocery list I send to Tyler.”

It was gratifying how wide Chris’s eyes went. “What? No, don’t do that. I’ll just bring them next time.”

“That’s okay.” She bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. “It’ll be good to have a supply around. I mean, what if I do have an at-home date with Fireman Steve? He sounds like a nice guy. It’s probably good to have a stash, just in ca—”

His mouth came down roughly, cutting off the rest of her words. Daisy didn’t mind being interrupted.

“Just to be clear,” he said when he finally lifted his head, his voice an odd mix of hoarse and stern, “we’re dating. As in, exclusively dating. So, no Fireman Steve.”

She smiled, cupping his face with one hand, just because she could, because they were dating. Finally. “No Fireman Steve.”

“Good.” He settled onto his back next to her.

After a few minutes of silence, she asked, “Why now?”

“Why now what?”

“You’ve had eight years to make your move.” She stared up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you do anything before this? I mean, you didn’t even want me to touch you up until a few weeks ago.”

Rustling noises told her he was shifting, but her focus stayed on the ceiling until his face blocked her view, forcing her to meet his gaze. “First of all, if I’d made any kind of move during those first two years, it would’ve been creepy. And illegal. You were sixteen. The next three or four years after that, it would’ve still felt wrong. The last few years, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s why I didn’t want you hugging me. I was so wound up that any contact would’ve destroyed my willpower. It was pretty shaky as it was.”

“So? Why not act on those thoughts once I was old enough?”

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