Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(127)

Straddling his lap, hungrily seeking his mouth, I rocked against him, shivering at the heavenly feel of his hard against my soft.

A low sound vibrated from his throat, his fingers making quick work of the buttons at the front of my shirt, his mouth trailing hot and hungry kisses down my neck to my chest.

I rocked against him again, wanting—needing—the pressure, the friction. His twelve o’clock shadow scratched the swell of my breast as he pulled down the cup of my bra, tonguing my nipple and groaning.

I dug my fingers into the back of his head, holding him in place as white hot spikes of sensation streaked through me. “We need to—we need to go inside.”

But do we? Do we really?

His fingers slid into the back of my underwear, palming my ass, caressing and squeezing. “One more minute. Fuck, does this bra clasp in the front?” He groaned at the discovery.

“Dan,” I moaned, his teeth nipping my breast just before he swirled his tongue over the peak, sucking it more completely into his mouth. I couldn’t help it, I bore down on him, trying to open myself wider.

“Oh fuck.” His hips jerked upward and his breath caught.

“I want you.” I didn’t think about it, where we were, what I was saying. I wasn’t analyzing my breathing, my movements. I didn’t even allow myself to take stock of what I was feeling.

I just felt, allowing myself to be mindless.

Dan’s forehead came to the valley between my breasts. His hot breath panting and ragged as his hands came to my hips, gripping me, holding me still. “Why are you so fucking perfect? Why do you feel so fucking good?”

Fire in my lungs, I tried to move again, tried to redirect his mouth back to my breast. “Dan.”

He held rigid. “Kat, hold still. Please.”

“I need you,” I said, again without thought. “I want you to make me feel good. I love—”

A string of expletives left his mouth and he leaned his head back and away, his eyes were shut tight. “You were right, we need to stop. We need . . .” he shook his head as though to clear it. “We need to go inside.”

“Yessss.” I tried grabbing his wrist to force him to move his hand, but he was too strong. He wouldn’t budge.

“And take a cold shower.”

“Noooo,” I groaned, bending to kiss his gorgeous lips, and sucked the bottom one into my mouth. This was the one he’d been teasing me with earlier. I savored it before releasing him with a slow lick.

Now he groaned. “Maybe we’ll play a nice, friendly game of Monopoly.”

Frustrated—but not really frustrated—I began to laugh, my head falling to his neck.

“We could play something else.”

“Strip poker.”

He made a choking sound. “You’re trying to murder me.”

I laughed again, placing a kiss on his neck, and trying to calm my pulse. This was great. He was great. And I felt great.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, a wave of gratitude and warm fuzzy feelings flowed through me. “Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you.”

His breathing slowed, his hands loosening their grip and sliding to my arms.

He cleared his throat before asking, “For what?”

“For so much. For everything.”

Dan encouraged me to release him and lean back. I did. He held my hands in his and kissed them, one at a time, his attention fixed on my knuckles.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, letting my hands go, his fingers moving to the buttons of my shirt and fastening them. “Personally, I think this is a good look for you.”

I smiled down at him, watching his progress. “My clothes are a mess.”

“You’re beautiful.” He finished with the last button.

“So are you.”

Dan lifted his gaze to mine, a small smile on his lips that wasn’t quite reflected in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, his shoulders giving a subtle shrug. “Nothing. I’m hungry, I guess. And I haven’t worked out today.”

He helped me shift back to my seat and I inspected him. “Do you work out every day?”

“Yes. Every day.” Dan rubbed his eyes with the base of his palms. “I like field work better than desk work, so I gotta be in shape. Plus, I like it.”

“Have you always worked out? Did you play sports in high school?”

He blinked a few times, staring out the windshield. “I started working out in prison. Never played sports in high school before I dropped out. I hated anything to do with organized socialization or the bullshit rituals.” He paused here to exhale a laugh. “Which is ironic because I joined my brother’s gang when I was thirteen, and that’s how I got these.” Dan gestured to wisps of black ink just visible above his collar.