“I could probably still fit in a toddler bed. I don’t need one. Plus, where the hell would I put it?” She busied herself with pushing his T-shirt up and over his head. He let her.
Good question. The shirt fell to the floor and she was licking a path from his neck to one nipple before he could ask if she’d tried rearranging the furniture before. Sharp teeth nipped at the flat disc and he yelped. “Ow!”
“Payback,” she said, then kissed a path down to his happy trail. “I’ve always found this to be one of the sexiest things on a man.”
“That? Really?” When she kissed down to where the waistband of his athletic shorts was, the tip of her tongue darting under the elastic, he struggled to follow the thread of logic.
“Oh, absolutely,” she agreed, tugging down his shorts an inch at a time. He was probably going to expire before she got to his cock. “It’s not vulgar to show off in public, but you don’t see it often. It’s such a masculine little area.” She hollowed her cheeks as she sucked hard enough to leave a little red mark on one of his hips. “I’m a total sucker for a nice happy trail.”
“You’re welcome to check mine out anytime, Freckles.” As she wormed the shorts down over his ass, he lifted it briefly to give her some assistance. The shorts and his boxer briefs were flung to some far corner, his ankle socks having come off with them. God knew where they landed. And then he had absolutely no thoughts about clothes at all.
She gripped his erection with one hand, her fingers barely making it around the base all the way, and licked delicately at the head.
Killian gripped the sheets for dear life. If he survived her exploration, he was setting the pace for the rest of the afternoon.
She took him in her mouth, pulling hard. He nearly came off the bed in surprise. “Jesus, Freckles. Warn a guy . . .”
“Hmm,” she said, her eyes watching him with an amused glint that told him she knew exactly what he was going through . . . because he’d put her through it five minutes ago.
“I don’t,” he began, then had to clear his throat as she pumped him with her fist. “I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
She pulled back enough to say, “Maybe I want you to.”
But he didn’t give her the chance to resume. Hooking a hand under each arm, he spun her around until she was beneath him. With some quick work, he donned the condom and was inside her before she could blast him for taking over before she was ready.
Head thrust back into the pillow, she submitted. He kissed below her ear, whispered words he’d regret using in the morning. Words that gave more than a hint at his growing feelings for her. Ones she could use against him easily in emotional warfare.
But if she heard him, if she processed the words, she didn’t let him see it. Her eyes were closed, and she moaned as he rolled his hips on a downward thrust. “So good,” she whispered. “So, so . . . yeah,” she finished with a sigh.
“Almost there,” he warned, his body tight as a bowstring.
“I’m right with you.” Her voice was a breathy whisper, and he wondered if there were some double meaning to it. But then she came in a glorious gasp, her eyes flying open wide with the magnitude of it, and he knew she hadn’t heard him before.
With relief singing through his veins, he let go and gave in to the climax shuddering down his spine.
Chapter Fourteen
Killian reclined against the squeaky headboard of Aileen’s bed. If the thing hadn’t been propped against the wall behind it, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t have held his weight. The woman herself lay draped over him, not at all covered by the one corner of the sheet left on the bed. The result was a wood nymph, napping in the warm sunlight in a field of clovers, unconcerned for her modesty.
She shifted slightly, her elbow narrowly missing his groin. With a wince, he moved her arm away from the family jewels. With that, she blinked her eyes open. No hesitation, no sleepy discovery for her. Just wide-awake Aileen.
“Hey,” she said, her voice sounding rusty. With a stretch, she sat up, then snagged a shirt from the floor and tossed it over her head. It was his, and it swallowed her torso whole. “Sorry I conked out for a bit. All that running, you know.”
He chuckled. She’d run for maybe three minutes, total. “Yeah. One sprint a day will really get ya.” He reached around her and picked up a photo from the dresser. Which, given how tiny the studio apartment was, he could reach without getting out of the bed. It was her, looking similar to now, so it couldn’t be too old. She stood in the goofy wardrobe of a graduate, in front of a large brick building. She was grinning at the camera, and he noticed under the gown that she wore her familiar Converse. “The obligatory cap and gown photo, huh? How long ago was this?”