“Lizzie, if we keep going like this, there’s no turning back.”
She held her breath, trying to grasp her fraying resolve and come back down to earth, trying to make a decision she didn’t want to make. Her heart was pleading for more. Her head was teetering between doing what she knew she should and ending this right here and now and doing what she so desperately wanted and what felt so very right that it couldn’t be wrong. She searched his eyes for answers he couldn’t possibly have, and her heart overruled her head.
“Kiss me, Blue. Touch me.”
He hesitated for only a second before a flash of unbridled passion burned in his eyes and their mouths crashed together, shattering their last bit of restraint. His hand slid up her shirt, and they both groaned at the skin-to-skin contact. She arched against him, wrapping one leg around his as their hips rocked together. And then her shirt was off and his mouth—his hot, wet, talented mouth—was on her breast, and thoughts she’d been trying to hold back came streaming out.
“Ohgodyes. More. Right there. Blue.”
She was lost in a storm of sensations and aching for more as he tore off her bra and teased and taunted her nipples, filling his palms with her breasts as he rained kisses over her ribs and across her stomach. He gripped her rib cage, dragging his tongue over her taut stomach and around her belly button. His thumb followed, stroking slow, wet circles around and around as he kissed along the waist of her pants, driving her out of her mind. She pressed her hips against him, giving him permission to take more of her, and instead of taking what she offered, he kissed his way back up her stomach, loving her breasts again. His eyes, nearly black with desire, hypnotized her with their possessive gaze. Her breathing was ragged as he took her in another mind-numbing kiss.
He reached behind him and pulled off his shirt. Her mouth went dry at the sight of all those muscles perched above her. And when he lowered his chest to hers, the feel of him against her stole all remaining thoughts. She crashed her mouth to his chest, licking and sucking, tasting and taking. His nipple pebbled beneath her tongue, earning a guttural groan from deep inside him. There was no restraining the white-hot need coursing through her as her hands stroked over his hard flesh, and he came down upon her again, pressing his eager arousal against her wet center. Even through their clothes she could feel his heat penetrating her skin. She shouldn’t do this. Couldn’t do this. She had to stop.
But he felt oh so good!
He gripped her hips, gyrating against her, and—oh my—she felt the full girth of his arousal and spread her jeans-clad legs wide, wanting to feel more of the tantalizing friction and heat consuming them. He lifted her knee and ground into her as he sucked on her neck, then took her in another heated kiss.
She loved the way he was careful with her, making sure he had the green light, and then he took control. This wild, unbridled man could have whatever he wanted. She loved the way he claimed her mouth as if he were branding her as his—and Lord, did she want to be his.
She was on a bullet train and she wanted to ride it all the way to heaven.
“Blue. God, Blue.”
“Too much?” He pulled back. He was so thoughtful it made her want to give even more of herself to him.
“No.” She pulled his mouth to hers. “Maybe,” she said between kisses. “No,” she corrected herself. “Definitely not.”
“You’re gonna give me whiplash.”
He stopped kissing her, both of them breathless. “Lizzie, we can stop. I don’t want you to regret this.”
She felt another pang of guilt about hiding the Naked Baker, and she couldn’t be sure if that guilt would lead to regret or not, but she wanted Blue more than she wanted to figure it out right now, so she answered with hope.
“I’m not going to.” She pulled him into another kiss and moved his hand to the button of her jeans. He made quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping them.
When his big hand pushed beneath her panties, her head tipped back with the delicious sensation of being touched by him. How many times had she pretended her own hand was his? How many nights had she suppressed the urge to accept his offer of a date only to go home and fantasize about him—about this?
He kissed her neck, her cheek, then took her earlobe into his mouth and swirled his tongue over it as his fingers played over the damp flesh between her legs. She arched up, and he took the invitation, dipping his fingers into her.
“Oh, yes…”
He was as good with his hands as he was with his mouth, teasing all the right places as he stroked and kissed and took her right up to the edge. She trapped her lower lip between her teeth and slammed her eyes shut to keep from crying out.