Get a Clue(69)

Shit. He stalked the length of the room, heading back to the fire, even though he didn’t need the heat; he was damn hot enough.

Craning his neck, he glanced back at the bed. The lump that was Breanne hadn’t budged. Good. She was going to be a good girl and go to sleep.

He only wished he could, but as he was currently hard enough to pound nails, he doubted sleep would come any time soon. James would have smacked him upside the head for turning down the sexiest, hottest woman he’d ever seen. He couldn’t believe he’d done it. He was truly an idiot.

Suddenly exhausted, he dropped into the chair, sprawled out his legs, and tipped his head back. Closed his eyes.

His mind did not turn off. Nope, it kept whirring and cranking out disturbing thoughts.

Wake her up.

Tell her you changed your mind—

Better yet, show her you’ve changed your mind.

“Cooper?”

He opened his eyes to find her standing right in front of him, his living fantasy in the flesh. “Thought you’d gone to sleep,” he said.

Slowly she shook her head.

“You should go to sleep.” He was sounding a bit desperate, even to his own ears, but damn it, he could only take so much with her standing there two inches from him, looking as if maybe she wanted to gobble him up whole.

He could really get behind that. “Breanne.”

“I know. You want me to go far, far away, but I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Her eyes held his, shadowed by insecurity. There was no use in pretending he couldn’t see because he might as well try to stop breathing. Every part of him was focused on her, locked in some hypersensitive state. “You can’t go back to bed because . . . ?”

“Because I want you in it with me.”

“Breanne—”

“I need you, Cooper. Don’t make me beg.”

Ah, Christ. “Are you sure?” he whispered fiercely.
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She straddled his legs and sat on his lap.

Okay, she was sure. “Breanne,” he groaned. “We’ve taken this about as far as we can with our clothes on, and I don’t want to stop again.”

She shook her head. “No stopping this time.”

“Good, because I’ve been hard since you got here. I’m going to damage myself if I keep it up.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “Have some mercy.”

She laughed, but her eyes shone with emotion as well, yanking at his heart, and his smile slowly faded.

“I need somebody tonight,” she whispered, her hands going to his shoulders. “And I want it to be you. You, Cooper Scott, and no one else.”

The promise was far more than he could have, or would have, asked for. He sat up a little straighter, running his hands up her body to cup her face, tugging her down for a kiss.

She obliged him in the sweetest, hottest connection he’d ever known, then pulled back, her lips leaving his with a little suction noise that tugged all the way through his body.

With a little smile, she got off of him and shimmied out of her skirt. God, he loved those black satin panties, the way the small patch of material barely covered her, how the stretchy fabric rode low on her hips, and though he couldn’t see her ass at the moment, he knew the material was riding up, outlining her to perfection. “Breanne,” he said hoarsely.

She crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of that red shirt, and pulled it over her head.

Leaving her in nothing but those panties, and suddenly he wished he’d let her keep the boots on, because holy shit, that would have made quite the picture.

Not that he needed the boots at the moment. Hell, no. She made his mouth water without the boots. She made his mouth water, period.

Then she climbed back into his lap, tucking a knee on either side of his thighs. His hands went to his favorite part, her sweet ass. He squeezed, then slid inside her panties, cupping her bare skin before gliding downward—

She gasped.

He groaned, his fingers delving deeper, finding her wet and creamy, making him groan again.

She said his name in a rather strangled voice, having gone utterly still in what he hoped was anticipation. “Good?” he asked.

The sound that came from her was rough, low, and the most erotic thing he’d ever heard, and he slowly pushed a finger inside her.

This elicited yet another breathy cry, and he added a second finger.

“More,” she whispered, squirming. “Please, more.”

He’d give her more, and it would take all night. Even knowing that wouldn’t be enough, he slid his fingers free, nudging her closer, then closer still so that her satin-covered crotch slid to his denim-covered one . . . oh, yeah . . . and those full breasts were only an inch from his mouth. He kissed the pouting tip of one and pulled back to watch it pucker up and darken for him. “You’re so sexy, Bree. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”