Butterface(32)

When he reached to unfasten it, she swept his hand aside and did it herself, watching the exquisite anticipation that made his nostrils flair and darkened his green eyes. She pushed his jeans down, then his boxers, and wrapped her hands around the base of his hard cock, stroking up and down.

“Gina,” he said, the rough edge of his voice sending a thrill through her.

She cupped his balls and took a slow lick of the swollen head. “Yes?”

“You’re not being nice.”

Up and down she stroked. “Really? I thought I was being very nice.”

The vein in his jaw ticked, visible proof of the tenuous hold he had on his control. “This is about you tonight.”

“And this isn’t?” she asked, twisting her grip as she moved her hand up and down his length.

He closed his eyes and said on a harsh exhale, “No.”

Silly men. “You don’t think I get turned on watching you fight off an orgasm?” She leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, relishing the salty pre-come at the tip. “Because I do.” She took him in deep before letting him go. “I do a lot.”

He shut up after that—unless she wanted to count the rumbling sounds of approval as he threaded his fingers through her hair and held her in place while he moved his hips back and forth with slow, precise movements that had both of them on the edge of sanity. She did not want to count that. Instead, she slid her hand between her legs and underneath her panties.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice tight. “Are you playing with yourself?”

Since her mouth was busy, she just nodded.

“I want to watch you.” His hands in her hair held her in place as he took a step back. “Show me.”

Whatever wanton woman had taken over her body was more than willing to comply. She stood, slid her panties off, and got up on the bed. Ford watched, fisting his dick, as she spread her legs. Everything was so sensitive that it only took a few strokes with two fingers around her clit for her to be on the verge of coming.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said, moving closer to the edge of the bed. “Don’t hold back.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t. Fingers slick with her arousal, she touched herself, bringing herself closer and closer with each movement until there was no holding back. The vibrations started, and in the heartbeat before her orgasm hit, she realized that Ford wasn’t watching what she was doing with her fingers, he was watching her face.

…

There was no coming back from this. Ford knew it. Watching Gina come apart was almost more than he could take.

He grabbed a condom from the drawer in her bedside table and tore the wrapper open with more force than necessary, but he was using all of his conscious effort to stop himself from sinking deep within her without any protection. She opened her eyes and looked at him with lazy satisfaction in her gaze as she watched him roll on the latex.

“I think I might be done,” she said, even as she caressed her tits.

He grabbed her ankles and pulled her down to the edge of the bed. “We both know that’s not the case.”

“That’s true,” she said, lifting her legs straight up.

Now that was an invitation he wasn’t about to ignore. He stepped to the edge of the bed, brought her ankles to his shoulders, clutched her hips in his hands, and in one bold push, buried himself to the hilt inside her. They both let out an appreciative moan, along with a little bit of “oh my God” and “yes please.” She squeezed his length and swiveled her hips in a way that had him counting back from a bazillion to keep from coming right then and there. Then, while he was still trying to stay away from the point of no return, she dug her heels into his shoulders and used them to leverage herself as she rocked against him, taking him in and out as pleasure built at the base of his spine.

He wanted to take it slow, but she felt so fucking good. Holding onto her hips and lifting her up, he thrust forward and withdrew, again and again. She tightened around him as she begged him not to stop and then came hard on his cock. The heady scent of sex filled the air around them as the tingle in his spine spiraled out to his limbs, his balls tightened, and he came.

It took a minute for his vision to return so he could see the content, blissed-out look on Gina’s face, her cheeks flushed and her brown hair a disheveled mess around her head. He’d never seen a woman more beautiful.

He should tell her. He should tell her this wasn’t just for fun for him. He should tell her… “I’ll be right back.”

For the love of Mike, Hartigan. Man up.

Yeah, talking about his feelings like that wasn’t in his makeup. So, he wimped out and went to the bathroom to clean up. By the time he got back to the bedroom, Gina’s eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly. Great. He’d had his chance and he’d blown it. Next time the opportunity presented itself, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d tell her everything.

An image flashed in his mind of being in the captain’s office and the conversation that had sent him to her door in the first place and all the lies of omission he’d told to get inside. Well, not everything—at least not yet. All he had to do was figure out how to make sure she wouldn’t hate his guts if she ever did find out the whole truth about how he’d ended up on her doorstep.





Chapter Fifteen

Gina couldn’t stop singing to herself. At the grocery store, she was humming along with some classic Supremes and executing some pretty bad—not in the good way—dance moves in the produce section. At the card shop with a wedding client looking at invitations, she hadn’t even realized she was singing along with the latest bubblegum pop hit until her client joined in. And now, here she was in the kitchen making coffee and shaking her ass to the music coming from the front of the house, where Juan and his crew were putting the finishing touches on the totally renovated front porch that would no longer try to eat people. It was a great fucking day and a testament to the power of getting laid on the regular.

“Well, happy morning to me,” Ford said.

She turned around to see him standing in the kitchen doorway wearing only his jeans. Her breath caught. She could look at his broad shoulders and washboard abs all damn day. His dark happy trail led right to the waistband of his jeans, which were unbuttoned and hanging onto his hips by some invisible force. God, would she ever get used to that sight? Or even better, would she ever get used to that bubbly feeling that filled her when he said her name or looked at her like he was really seeing her and not just a caricature? Being around him was better than just the contact high of hanging out with someone so hot she thought she might go up in flames. Being near Ford was like getting to feel the sun on her face after a long winter, and it was about the happiest and most hopeful feeling she’d ever had.

“Coffee?”

“Not exactly what I’m in the mood for,” he said as he walked over to where she stood by the coffeemaker. “But I do have to head out pretty soon, so I can head back to my house and change before my shift.”

She poured a cup and handed it to him. “They don’t allow half-dressed detectives?”

“No, that’s totally against the rules.”

“They need to rethink that one.” She leaned in and inhaled his clean man scent before giving in and kissing the love bite she’d left last night, right where his shoulder met his neck. “I’d confess to just about anything if it meant I got to see you looking like this again.”

He set his coffee down on the counter and reached behind her to cup her ass, giving it a playful squeeze. “Is there something you need to confess?”

“Well, officer,” she said, trailing her fingers across his chest. “I’m afraid I have been a very bad girl.”

He let out a harsh groan and lifted her up, so she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. Good thing that was pretty much all she wanted to do anytime she was anywhere near him anyway.

“Oh, Detective Hartigan,” she said, curling her hands around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I think you like it when I’ve been bad.”

“You have no idea.” He pressed her more firmly against him.

She undulated her hips again, rubbing her cotton-panty-covered core against the hard evidence of just how much he liked it. “I think I do.”

“Tell me you don’t have plans tonight.”

Mentally checking her calendar made her groan. “I have a pre-engagement party meeting with new clients tonight, but I’ll be done by eight.”

He let out a sigh and lowered her to the ground but kept his arms around her waist, holding her close. “You can’t just tell them to book a restaurant and leave it at that?”

“No.” Did the man not understand that her job was to facilitate and promote the fantasy of romance and its effervescent, everlasting qualities? “Some people like more of a public show than that.”

“Why?” he asked, his fingers busy drawing circles on the rise of her ass in the most distracting of ways.

“Because they’re in love,” she said, desperately trying to put words together in a way that didn’t end up with her saying kiss me, you fool. “And they want to share that with their family, their friends, and the whole world. Shout it from the rooftops.”