Yeah, I did, but more like in a fantasy way. The thought of him really taking off his clothes made me a bit panicky. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
With two fingers he pushed open the top button of his shirt, then the next.
My heart went all sorts of crazy, beating erratically as I tried to keep my cool.
With the top buttons undone, he pulled his shirt over his head. His right shoulder was covered in thick, black bands with thin lines intertwined, perfectly aligned with the definition of his deltoid muscle.
With my finger, I traced the line as it swirled in and out, weaving over his smooth skin. I raised my other hand to his perfect chest and ran my fingers across two small blackbirds flying away from a black jagged line on his chest. Like it had been ripped open and they escaped.
His chest rose and fell in a deep breath.
I ran my nail softly over the break in skin.
I stilled my hand and glanced up. My thin pants left no question. I’d turned him on.
He slipped his fingers behind my neck and pressed his lips against mine. I opened my mouth as he pushed his tongue in and swept it over mine. He tilted his head and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth then drove his tongue back inside. His hands slid down my body then back up, pushing my shirt up along the way. He broke the kiss only long enough to tug my shirt over my head and discard it.
“Where’s your roommate?” he asked between kisses.
“With friends. Won’t be back tonight.”
He groaned.
“What’s wrong?”
He dropped his kisses to my neck, licking and nipping his way up my jaw. “I needed a reason to stop.”
“Oh.”
He cupped my breast, traced the edge of my bra with his tongue. “Tell me to stop.” He pulled the fabric down and sucked my nipple into his mouth. My head spun and heat blasted through me.
“Don’t stop,” I murmured.
He flipped me onto the bed and settled over me. My bra was removed and he stared down at me for a second. I’d never had a guy look at me like that, but the urge to cover up disappeared as his appreciative gaze made its way up.
“Beautiful.” He brushed his lips over mine in a move that was so tender it pulled at something deep inside me.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and slipped my tongue into his mouth, wanting to taste him more than I’d ever wanted anything.
He wrapped my leg around him and pushed against me as his tongue explored my mouth. He broke the heated kiss. “Stop?”
I shook my head and kissed him deeper. My hips arched and he groaned as our bodies rubbed together. My head tilted back and he licked my neck.
His fingers drifted along my side as he moved his hand down my stomach. He cupped me between my thighs and rubbed his hand over me. “Now?”
“No, definitely not now.”
He chuckled and brought his mouth to my chest. His tongue flicked over me and I tried not to moan, but it was pretty much a lost cause. He pushed his leg between mine, spreading them farther apart. “There is one thing I want for my birthday.”
Oh God. He did want sex. My stomach flopped a little. What had I gotten myself into? I mustered courage and asked, “What?”
He must have felt me stiffen. “Not sex, Brinley.” He brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, “No more teasers.”
I froze.
“If you don’t plan to stop me now, then let me finish this.”
The thought of having an orgasm for him mortified me. Like I was on show. I couldn’t do it. “But—but what do you get out of that?”
“You mean, besides a really big fucking hard-on? The satisfaction of knowing you want me as bad as I want you.” He sucked my earlobe and pressed his teeth gently into it. “The pleasure of watching you co—”
“I don’t know,” I blurted before he could finish that statement.
“Wait.” He pulled back and looked at me. “Have you ever had an—”
“Seriously.” I covered my face. “We don’t need to talk about this.”
“Never?” His complete shock was evident in his tone.
I didn’t know how to tell him it didn’t seem right to do it alone and I had no plans of returning the favor with any of the other guys I’d dated. Sure, we’d made out and we’d done a lot of stuff besides kissing, but I could never let my guard down enough to have a full-out orgasm just from a make-out session.
“I didn’t mean to push you further than you want,” he said.
“You didn’t. Just—just quit talking.” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. “You’re running out of birthday.” I pulled his mouth back to mine.
Our kisses picked up again and his hand ran down my side and rested on my hip, yet he didn’t push for more. But I wanted him to. I wanted to finish this too. No more teasers.