Oh my God. Oh my God, Ohmygod, OHMYGOD.
I shut my mouth with a snap, then lock my jaw in an effort to ensure that I never say anything again. Ever. Who is this woman who’s suddenly invaded my body? And can the real Veronica Romero please stand the fuck up?
Ian’s still not saying anything, which to be fair could be because I just sucked up all the oxygen in the room with my babbling. Or it’s because he’s changed his mind about my mental stability and is busy plotting his escape. Either way, his silence can’t be good. But when I finally get up the nerve to look back at him, Ian is just watching me with amused eyes and a smug smirk on his face that is somehow way more attractive than it should be.
For a while anyway, and then it just gets annoying as he continues to stare without saying anything.
“What?” I finally demand, when I can’t take the suspense any longer.
He shakes his head, and somehow looks even more amused despite everything that’s been revealed tonight. “Did you really just suggest that you get ‘wonky’ if you have enough orgasms? Because if so, I’m going to take it as a personal mission to ensure that you always—”
I grab one of the throw pillows on the sofa and hit him over the head with it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then I stand up, start to shift away from him. But I’m barely on my feet before he’s grabbing me and rolling with me onto the floor.
It’s such an unexpected move that I go with it instinctively, laughing a little as he settles himself on top of me. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” he says right before he kisses my nose.
“And you are impossibly unattractive when you’re smug.”
“Oh yeah?” He brushes the back of his hand over my nipple. Over my very hard, very aroused nipple. “So this is what happens when you think I’m unattractive?”
I’m too busy arching into his touch to answer. I’m not used to this side of Ian. Relaxed. Playful. Open. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it. Then again, I’m beginning to think there isn’t much about Ian that I don’t like.
Chapter 25
There is so much we need to talk about. So much I need to tell her, including the fact that I’m falling for her, too. No, not falling. I’ve already fallen. Hard.
But she’s right here beneath me, her beautiful body stretched out and arching against me and all I can think about is kissing her. Fucking her. Making her come again and again and again.
I’m going to do it right this time, though, going to take care of Veronica the way she so desperately needs to be taken care of. Softly. Gently. Tenderly.
With that thought in mind, I push myself out of her arms. She moans, tries to grab on to me, but I’ve got more planned for her—for us—than a quick fuck on the family room floor. Not now. Not this time.
She whimpers as I push to my feet, and I murmur softly to her as I bend down and pick her up. Nonsense words. Soothing words. Sweet nothings that are meaningless on their own, but together provide the reassurance that she craves.
That we both crave.
Once I’ve got her in my arms, she wiggles until she’s wrapped around me like a limpet—her arms around my neck, her legs around my hips. She fits perfectly, like she was made to be there. Her breasts soft against my chest, her sex so warm and wet against my cock that I can feel her even through the fabric of my pants.
I pull her closer still, twine my arms around her waist and slide my hands down to cup her ass as I stumble toward the hallway. “Where’s your room, love?” I whisper in her ear.
I want to stretch her out on her bed, to kiss and lick and worship her body the way she deserves to be worshipped.
But she shakes her head, says, “Not my room,” even as her hips rock desperately against mine.
Every cell in my body is screaming for me to take her, to bury myself so deep inside of her that nothing will ever tear us apart. But her words pull me up short and I lean back so I can see her face. So that I can make sure she wants this as much as I do.
So that I can make sure that she’s okay.
She is, her face soft and aroused and needy, so needy that just looking at her sends a shock of heat through every part of me. But there’s a vulnerability there, too, one I haven’t seen before, and it makes me desperate to give her whatever she wants. Desperate to make her as happy, as content, as satisfied as I can.
With that thought in mind, I press my lips softly to hers, then revel in how easily her mouth opens under mine.
In how she licks her way inside my mouth and tangles her tongue with mine.
In how she sucks my lip between her teeth and bites down gently.