It Must Have Been the Mistletoe(60)

Instead of tracing the hard length stretching his zipper, she forced herself to draw out her excitement by sliding her hands up the rippling planes of his chest.

He moaned lightly as she curled her nails into the delicious muscles of his shoulders. Then, as if that was the signal he’d been waiting for, the kiss went from sweet to erotic in one swift thrust of his tongue.

She hadn’t known how afraid she’d been that he’d turn her away until he didn’t. Or how much she’d wanted him until he’d taken her mouth with a passion she knew was real. As his tongue swept over hers, his teeth skimming her lower lip to take the kiss even deeper, she forgot every reason why this could be wrong and gave in to all the reasons it was right.

Tyler. Finally. She’d wanted him forever. She’d thought of nothing but his kiss since he’d first brushed his lips over hers in the bar. And now she could touch him, taste him. Be with him. It was like a dream come true.

He shifted. Between one breath and the next, they were both flat on the floor, his body poised over hers, one hand cradling the back of her head. All without taking his lips from her mouth.

Rita had to appreciate a man with that kind of talent.

To show that appreciation, she skimmed her hands down his back and tugged his shirt free of his jeans.

“Mmm,” she moaned as she finally got her hands on the warm, hard flesh of his abs. “You have one fine body.”

“Ditto,” he breathed as he trailed his fingers over the aching heaviness of her breast, then down her waist. Too fast, she wanted to say. She bit back the words. At this rate, she’d be begging before he’d dropped his jeans.

And if there was any begging in this room, it was damned sure going to be mutual.

With that in mind, when he reached for her sweater, she gently batted his hand away.

“This is like a dream come true,” she told him, squirming a little. As she moved his eyes went dark and blurry. His breath seemed to stutter in his chest. And best of all? His dick pressed even harder against her thigh.

Before she could give in to the delight of being seduced, she wiggled out from under him. Tyler rolled to his back, watching her with a sexy half smile that challenged her to drive him crazy.

A challenge she was more than happy to take.

Rita reached back to slide the elastic band from her hair, shaking her head so the tresses fell in wild abandon around her face.

She reached down, hooking her fingers on the hem of her sweater, and slowly, inch by inch, started sliding it up her torso.

“You know what I love best about sex?” she asked him, wanting to see if she could break his concentration.

“Everything?” he said absently, his eyes never leaving her body.

“Exactly.” Pleased, she finished pulling the sweater off to reward them both. Tossing it aside, she shifted to her knees, then curved her hands over her own waist. In a slow, teasing move she trailed her fingers up her sides, pausing briefly to cup her breasts as if offering them up for Tyler’s delight.

His eyes narrowed, and his breath puffed out in appreciation. Her own eyes at half-mast, she scraped her fingernails over her hard nipples where they were trying to break through the lace of her bra. Then, before she could get carried away, she finished the move by tracing her hands up her throat and through her hair, stretching her arms overhead in supplication.

“Sex, when it’s done right, is incredible,” she said. “It’s honest and pure and real. It’s all about sharing what’s inside, while feeling incredible outside. So…will we do it right?”

She waited, a part of her sure he’d pull away. Instead he tugged off his shirt, then gave her a smile that was so warm, so sweet that her heart melted.

“Why don’t I show you,” he offered, reaching out to cup his own hands over her breasts. While his fingers worked magic, Rita hurried the process along by slipping off her jeans and panties, then kneeling over him clad in just her black lace bra.

One hand never leaving her nipples, he used the other to release the catch of her bra before scooping lower to trace the tidy patch of wet curls between her legs.

Leaning back, Rita spread her legs wide to give him better access. One of his hands worked the pouty pink tips of her lush breasts, the other caressed the glistening bud of her desire.

Rita was going to go crazy if he didn’t put his finger, his dick—hell, anything—inside her soon.

“More,” she demanded breathlessly.

“Make me,” he ordered.

Grinning at the command, she took him at his word. Pressing both hands against his chest, she pushed him flat on the floor.

Rita licked and nibbled her way across his glorious chest then down the firm planes of his belly. Obviously too impatient to wait, he tugged his belt open, unsnapped, unzipped and shoved his jeans off. Before she could ask, he held up a foil packet.