Melting the Ice(47)

            But he wanted to do it right for her, wanted to take his time.

            “You know,” he said, sweeping his hand over her bare stomach. “The first time we were together we were both drunk. This time I’m stone-cold sober.”

            “You had beers tonight.”

            He laughed. “A few. But not a lot. I don’t get drunk anymore.”

            She lifted up on her elbows again. “Why not?”

            “I like to know what I’m doing. Being drunk was fun in college, when I was a kid. I’m not a kid anymore.”

            “So you’re all mature and responsible now?”

            He sensed she didn’t believe him. In him. He wanted to change that. “I intend to be responsible for your pleasure tonight.” Once again, he eased her shoulders back down on the bed, then reached behind to unclasp her bra.

            “As I recall, I had a pretty good time that night in college.”

            “Good to know. I’ll give you a better time tonight.”

            “You keeping score, Drew?”

            He pulled the bra away and tossed it to the foot of the bed. “No, Carolina, I’m not. Are you?”

            She didn’t answer, but her nipples puckered and tightened into sweet buds. He circled one with the tip of his finger. Her breath caught, and he bent and captured a nipple in between his lips.

            Soft, just like the rest of her skin. He flicked the bud with his tongue, then pulled it into his mouth, sucking gently.

            “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I like that.”

            It had been a long time since he’d been with her, and he might have been drunk that night, but he still remembered how responsive she’d been, and how sensitive her nipples were.

            He focused on them, cupping them, licking them, until she wriggled against him, arching her back to feed them into his mouth. And when she dug her nails into his arm, he knew he had her, wild and out of control.

            He released her, looking down at her, at the way her nipples were tight, hard points, wet from his mouth. It made him shudder, his balls tight and pounding.

            He swept his hand between her breasts and down her belly, then reached for the button of her jeans and popped it open.

            “Let’s get these off.”

            He slid off the bed only long enough to pull her jeans over her hips and down her legs. She wore black panties and knee-high socks, surprisingly sexy, actually. He rolled the socks down, then laid his hands on her hips, liking the way she watched him, her eyes stormy, dark, and filled with desire.

            He reached for the tiny strings holding her panties on her hips and drew them off, then cupped her ankles, sliding his hands up to her calves, spreading her legs as he reached her thighs.

            Her sex was moist, pink, and as he kneeled on the floor in front of the bed, he breathed in her scent, musky and sweet. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and cupped her butt, drawing her pussy toward his mouth.

            “Drew.”

            His name floated from her lips like a begging whisper. He knew what she wanted. He kissed the inside of her thigh, then licked along the curve of that hollow, pressing his lips to her sex, snaking his tongue out to draw along her sweet center.

            She shuddered. He moved upward, and put his mouth over her sex, flattening his tongue over her clit.

            She said his name again and he licked her, the whole length of her, tasting her and putting his tongue inside to lap at her flavor. He rolled his tongue over her, finding the spots that made her lift against him.