Leo slapped my ass.
“Pardon me?” I asked, raising my head and looking at him strangely.
“Mosquito,” he grinned, showing me his hand.
“Ew.” I grimaced, pushing his hand down to the porch floor and wiping it for him.
Wooden planks aren’t exactly the most comfortable location for a first time. But would I change it? No way. I’d wear this doorknob imprint on my thigh proudly. I lay in the circle of his arms, one leg still wrapped high around his hips. Fast and furious it had been, the opposite of the way Leo lived his life. But I wasn’t complaining. The three trips around the world had clued me in to the fact that Leo was killer in the sack. And up against the side of a house . . .
I nuzzled into his neck, smelling the warmth of his skin. Describing his scent as earthy seems too easy, but truly, it was. A bit like green growing things, loamy but clean. Accented with a tinge of Lava soap. He had a bit of hair on his chest, which was nice. Not thick in a seventies porn way, but in this day and age of manscaping, it was nice to discover some fluff under the vintage concert tees.
What could not be described as a “bit” of anything was what was between his legs, and I could feel it already stirring again against my bottom. I rolled over slightly to look at him, and found him watching me with lazy eyes.
“I should get you off this porch,” he murmured.
I nodded vigorously. “And into my bed?”
His response was to scoop me up, throw me over his shoulder in one quick motion, and carry me into the house. “I thought you’d never ask.” Inside, he looked for the stairs. “Which way?”
Laughing, I kicked up a foot and pointed. With one hand firmly wedged between my thighs, he headed toward them. “I hope you’re up for round two, because I plan on going slow this time.”
“And you heard me complaining . . . when?”
“I’m just saying, I hadn’t planned on fucking you on the front porch,” he replied, planting a kiss on my right cheek as he ran (oh my god, he ran!) up the stairs.
“If you weren’t planning on fucking me, then why the late-night visit?” I giggled, pointing toward my room now with my foot.
“Oh, I planned on fucking you.” He dropped me onto my bed, where I bounced back into the air. “The front porch was just the surprising part.”
“How did you know I’d let you?” I asked, coming to rest. Still naked as the day is long, mind you.
Leo, also still naked and in possession of his own long day, leaned over me. Planting a kiss in between my breasts, he groaned into my skin. “I was hoping you’d let me fuck you.” Another kiss. “And then when I heard what was going on up there—aw, hell, Sugar Snap. You were already up here fucking me, all by yourself.”
A decent person would blush now. I had blushed when I fell on him, twice. I’d blushed when I thought about his beard, and where else I’d like to feel it tickle me. Occasionally I blushed when he talked so freely about his walnuts. But now? When I legitimately could and should blush?
I simply took him by the neck, pulled him down to me, and kissed him slow and sweet and long. As his tongue dipped into my mouth, I shivered. The initial itch had been scratched, and now I longed to explore, to taste, to luxuriate in getting to know his body, and how it responded to mine. We fell back onto the bed, lazy and close, the air still thick and still, but now filled with quiet kisses and the insistent creaking of my bed as we rolled and rocked.
“I think I’ve got some WD-40 in my Jeep,” Leo murmured, and I giggled into his throat. He rolled me on top of him, and I kissed his Adam’s apple.
“You think I haven’t tried that before? It’s just a squeaker.”