Melt For Him(50)

“Becker.” She shuddered, desperate for him to touch her. “I can barely think when you talk like that.”

“Good. I don’t want you thinking. I want you feeling, because if you’re thinking then I’m not doing it right.”

He reached for her hand and lifted her to her feet.

“Hey. Do you remember when we first met and how you wanted me to draw a raccoon?” she asked.

“No, Megan. I forgot everything about the night I met the woman who makes me feel human again,” he said in a dry voice.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, ha ha.” She reached into her purse for her sketchbook and flipped to the page with the raccoon she’d drawn for him. The tattoo she’d told him about by the river. She held her breath as he appraised the image, so different from the silly one she’d drawn that first night, but similar in many ways, too. The raccoon was painstakingly detailed, down to the tufts of fur on his ringed tail, but he had the cartoonish look that marked her favorite style. The best part was how she’d dressed him. She’d given him a pair of bunker pants, suspenders, and a fire helmet. Her skin prickled with anxiety, hoping he liked it.

He looked at her, ran a thumb along her jawline, and held her face in his hands. “You drew me a raccoon.”

She nodded.

“I love it.”

“You do?”

“You’re good, Megan. You’re really good. You’re going to be an amazing tattoo artist. You have so much talent.”

She ripped the page out. “I want you to keep it,” she said softly, her chest flooding briefly with nerves. She liked giving her drawings away; she’d always made pictures for other people, and she had for him their first night together, so it seemed fitting. Grabbing a pen from her purse, she whipped off a few quick lines, then handed him the paper.

With his eyes on the page, he read her words out loud. “For you. Some people might think a drawing of a raccoon is silly. I’m one of those people. I’m also not. I’m glad you’re both too. Megan.” He looked up from the lines and brushed his index finger gently along her cheek. “I already loved it. Now I love it even more. And I’m going to add it to my Megan collection.”

“You have a collection for me?”

“You did leave me a note that first night,” he pointed out.

“Now you have another.”

“That I do. And I love that you draw pictures and leave notes for me. It’s part of what makes you unbelievably hot to me,” he said. He made a noise that bordered on a growl and pulled her in for a hungry, desperate kiss. Soon, they were tangled up in each other, and she was groaning at the feel of his chest against her. He grabbed her at the waist, and she wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her onto the counter and kissed her furiously, his bristly jawline turning her cheeks red. She didn’t care one bit that she was getting whisker burn.

Finally, he broke the kiss.

She placed a hand on her chest. “I want to do something.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Meet me on the back porch.”

The sliver of a smile played on his lips. “As you wish.”

Pushing open the front door, she waved good-bye with a sexy wink, then walked quickly down the street, around the side of the building, and turned into the alley, lit faintly by a streetlamp that illuminated him. He stood in the doorway, waiting for her, a curious look on his face. As she neared the table where she’d taken that tumble, she started to reach under her skirt.

When it registered, he grinned wildly. That first night she’d promised she’d show up again in the alley and shimmy out of her panties. She walked around the table, stopped inches from him and skimmed off her undies, handing the little scrap of pink lace to him. “I told you I’d give them to you,” she whispered.

He brought them to his nose briefly, then stuffed them into his pocket as he tugged her against him. “And I told you I’d make you come again.”

She tapped her finger playfully against her chin, as if she were recalling the fine details of their naughty conversation. “Why, I believe you did.”

He scanned the alley. It was as quiet as the night they met. The only soundtrack was the faint rustle of a night breeze in the nearby trees, and the faraway music from the Kings of Leon album playing on repeat from inside the Panting Dog.

“Let’s make the most of our week then,” he said as he clasped her hand and dropped into a chair a few feet away, pulling her into his lap. He reached into his back pocket and brandished a condom.

“Excellent. Because I’m already good to go,” she said, since she was amped up from their kisses, and their contact behind the bar. She made quick work of his zipper and yanked his briefs down, freeing his erection. Gripping him in her hand once more, she savored his reaction as he groaned hungrily from her touch, his eyes floating closed as she covered him. Hot sparks spread throughout her body as she hiked up her skirt and lowered herself, inch by fantastic inch, until he filled her completely. She gripped his shoulders as she began to move, upping the pace.