Down to You(25)

“But you aren’t ‘people.’ You’re the guy that’s getting ready to put me out of my misery.”

“Misery, huh?” I ask, quirking one brow at her.

I know my smile probably gives away the direction my thoughts have taken, and Olivia manages to surprise me again when she immediately jumps in to play along.

“Yes, misery,” she agrees with a smile. “You’re not the kind of guy to leave a girl hanging, are you?”

Although she seems sweet and innocent and shy, at times she seems ready to participate in a much more intimate and dangerous game. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about games or misery or anything else concerning Olivia Townsend.

But damn if I’m not!

Dark and dirty things come to mind, things like how much pleasure I’d get from putting her in misery. But not the bad kind of misery. No, I want Olivia in the kind of misery that makes her sweat and writhe, and then beg me to come inside her.

I feel the need to resituate inside my pants and I remind myself that I’m drifting onto dangerous ground. My mind understands that, but looking down into Olivia’s face, at her sparkling eyes and lush lips, I can’t for the life of me get that through to any other body parts.

“Only if that’s what she likes,” I say, reaching out to pick up a long black lock of hair from Olivia’s shoulder. The strand feels like silk between my fingers. So does her skin against the back of my hand. “What do you like, Olivia?”

I think I see her chest rise as she catches her breath. Maybe she’ll be the one to throw on the brakes. God knows I’m not going to. I might regret it later, but right now I’m not thinking about anything but what it would be like to see Olivia without that red dress.

Her eyebrow arches. I don’t know if it’s really in acceptance of my challenge or if that’s just what I’m hoping. But then she licks her lips and drops her chin a little, looking up at me from beneath her lashes.

She’s coy. But not on purpose. It’s just the way she is. And it’s an even bigger turn on.

“You mean you don’t know? I figured a four-star General would know all sorts of things the rest of us didn’t.”

“Maybe I just like to do my own recon.”

“And what does that consist of?”

I know I should stop while I still can. Only I can’t.

“I like to use all my senses to get a good lay of the land.”

“Lay of the land?” she asks, the corners of her mouth dimpling.

“Of course,” I reply. “So I can plan my attack.”

“Recon? For an attack? Do tell.”

“First I start with touch.” I reach out and brush one dimple with my fingertip then slowly drag it inward, across her pouty bottom lip. “Touch is invaluable. The texture of the terrain tells me how…aggressive my attack needs to be. Some places require a much more delicate approach than others.”

“I see,” she says softly, her warm breath tickling my finger. “What else?”

“Smell,” I say, sliding my hand into her hair to hold it back as I bury my face in the lightly scented skin of her neck. “A certain scent can tell me if I’m heading in the right direction. Something sweet. Something…musky,” I murmur.

I hear her gasp when I gently bite the flesh beneath her ear. “And hearing,” I whisper. “Sometimes the softest sounds, even a moan can tell me a great deal about how close I am to my attaining my goal.”

I feel her hands latch onto my forearms. Her fingernails are biting into my skin through my shirt. All I can think about is how I want to feel them on the skin of my back instead.

Her breath is coming fast and shallow in my ear. “What else?” she pants.

I lean back and look down into her face. Her lids are heavy over her dazzling eyes and her cheeks are flushed with everything that’s happening between us. She doesn’t want to stop either. There’s no doubt in my mind.

“Taste.”

Her eyes flicker to my mouth and back again. “And what do you taste?”

“Everything. I want to taste everything.”

If I ever stood a chance of resisting her, it evaporates the instant she leans into me. So does every last ounce of finesse that I’m normally capable of. The kiss that should’ve started out slow starts out like a forest fire. The first taste of her tongue consumes me.

And I’m lost.

My hands are in her hair and my mouth is devouring hers. I give no thought to where I am or the girlfriend whose father I work for. I can’t think past how badly I want to be inside the tight, hot body of the girl in my arms.

But why? Why do I want her so bad?