Neither do I.
We just stare, our chests rising and falling as we watch each other. His fists are balled up at his sides, and he’s leaning toward me slightly as if he’s battling himself whether to go all the way to me or not. Finally, his eyes leave mine and move down my body. My dark hair is curled and stuck to my skin, my bra and panties are the only things covering me, and I have to fight the urge to raise my arms and cover myself. Moments ago, outside, I didn’t care how bare I was, but now . . . he’s close. But I want him to see this—to see me. When his bottom lip disappears between his teeth . . . I know.
He wants me.
This time, I don’t ask. I’m tired of watching him deny something he clearly desires. I slam my body into his. His arms weave around me and squeeze me tightly to him as our mouths collide. Frenzied, lost in the moment I climb his body and hook my legs around his waist as his hands move down and cup my ass. He squeezes my flesh hard, and I gasp as a thrill runs through me. His lips melt into mine; the rain still wet on his mouth mixed with his sweat and breath makes me heady. He stumbles backward until his legs hit the porch swing then he sets me on my feet. Dragging his soaked shirt over his head he tosses it aside; it smacks the concrete floor as he watches me. I’ve seen him shirtless before, but not like this. Not with his body tense, aching in need . . . for me. Slowly he reaches down and begins unbuckling his belt, but stops and jerks his gaze to mine.
“Is it—”
I seize his mouth with mine, swallowing his words as I smack his hands aside and take over undoing his belt and pants. Slipping each of my thumbs so that they catch his boxers with his pants, I tug them down as I kiss his chest and his stomach until I’m face to face with his erection. I lick my lips, prepared to take him in my mouth, but he yanks me up as he kicks his shoes and pants off. As he runs each of his rough and calloused hands from my shoulders down my arms, I tremble. Slowly, he sits on the swing, placing his hands on my hips to prevent me from following.
“Will you do something for me?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Anything,” I beg, my eyes dancing back and forth between his body and his erection. Although I’m answering his question, I’m begging him to tell me to do something; kiss him, lick him, bite him; I need to have some part of my body doing something to his.
Releasing my hips, he leans back stretching his arms across the back of the swing, taking my breath away as I watch every hard muscle in his arms flex. “Turn around and slowly remove your bra.” My knees nearly buckle beneath me, but somehow I manage to turn around. I unhook my bra and let it slip down my arms and drop it to the floor. He says nothing for a moment, only the sound of the rain breaks the silence. Finally, he speaks. “Stay just like that,” Connor orders. “But lift your hair off of your neck.”