Jericho spun around and lifted me over his shoulder. It was so cavemannish that it made me want to laugh. But I didn’t, because I was too distracted with running my hands down his strong back.
“Isabelle, you need to stop doing that,” I heard him say.
His words filled my head like a fever. I slid my hands into his jeans and grabbed his ass. When I felt his fingers claw at the waistline of my shorts, I wanted to knock him down and mount him right there in front of the crowd.
A squeak sounded, and he set me on my feet. “Get in.”
“Is this ours?”
Jericho was panting and held my face so close I thought he would kiss me. I readied myself for it while staring at his lips.
“Get in, baby. I can’t hold out much longer.”
This was happening. This was finally happening.
He closed the door and turned the lock. The dim lights outside illuminated the cozy trailer with a frosty glow. I faced the door, and on my left was a small seating area with a table, like something out of a diner. The air was stuffy, and I could see the edge of a bed in the room to my right.
Jericho lifted the ends of my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. He cupped my breasts, rolling his thumbs over the lacy fabric of my bra until my nipples grew hard beneath. I swayed and gripped the belt loops on his pants. His hands disappeared behind my back to unlatch my bra.
“I’ve been wanting this for decades,” he said in a rough voice edged with desire.
“Well, you’ve had plenty of practice.”
His jaw rubbed against my cheek as he unhooked the strap. “Don’t do that. Don’t bring those women in here with us. Not a damn one of them can hold a candle to you, Isabelle Monroe.”
The moment I heard the muffled snap of my bra coming undone, I felt myself coming undone right along with it. I’d never felt more naked in front of a man than when Jericho carefully slid the straps down my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. My arms remained at my sides, waiting for him to make the next move. I had been told I was an assertive lover, and I was afraid it might scare him off.
My shaky breath was the only sound in the room. Then his warm hands curved around my breasts, stroking my nipples and making me sway. He dropped to one knee and drew one into his mouth, sucking eagerly as I moaned and grabbed a fistful of hair.
He lifted his eyes to mine and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “Let’s go lie down,” he said, standing up and leading me to the bed.
Before I could sit, Jericho unfastened my shorts. I’d heard his sex stories before and they typically involved him banging a girl against a wall, so I braced myself for a quickie.
The shorts hit the floor and he tossed them to the side. Then his fingers wasted no time pulling down my panties. “Sexybelle,” he whispered. “My sweet little redhead. Lie down on the bed for me.”
As soon as my panties tangled around my feet, I sat down. He placed the flat of his hand on my chest and coaxed me onto my back.
Jericho kicked out of his shoes and unbuttoned his pants, but he didn’t bother with the rest when he saw me scooting up the bed toward the pillows.
“Where you going?”
“Nowhere,” I said with a coy smile, bending my knees and holding them together.
He crawled up the bed with a sex-laced grin, parting my legs and resting his body between them. “There’s no escaping me this time.”
Oh God. He felt deliciously warm. Jericho studied my navel and circled his finger around it before mimicking the same strokes with his tongue.
“Ohh,” I moaned, watching his eyes glitter as they looked up at me.
“You said you weren’t a Southern girl, Isabelle, but I think I can change your mind,” he said, moving his mouth south of the border.
I drew in a breath and held it as his rapturous tongue learned every stroke and flick that made me moan and squirm. Once he’d worked me into a tightly wound coil of desire, he began kissing my inner thigh and inserted his fingers.
“Peaches,” he whispered, increasing momentum and returning with his mouth.
I grabbed a fistful of his hair and lifted my hips off the bed.
“That’s it, baby. Give me more,” he said, building me closer and closer to climax with his skilled hands and mouth.
I gasped and leaned forward, my body humming with desire. Then he flipped me onto my stomach. I heard his zipper and then him shucking out of his jeans. I eagerly climbed up on all fours and readied myself.
Jericho pushed at my back until I fell on my stomach. “Not that way.”
“Why not?” I asked, knowing how most Shifters preferred sex.
His hot, naked body covered my back, and he parted my legs. “All fours or standing up is the only way I’ve done it. I want something different with you, Isabelle.”