The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet(16)

“You sure?”

Her fingers tore at his jacket, dragging it off his shoulders. “Quit asking me if I’m sure. I’m an adult. I’m allowed to have irresponsible sex with a tattooed man.”

“It’s responsible if we use condoms,” he told her, kissing her neck and steering her toward the closest doorway.

“Then I’m definitely allowed to have responsible sex,” she said breathlessly. “Come on.” She grabbed the leather of his jacket and began to drag him across the hall, toward what he assumed was her room.

“Sounds good to me.” He shrugged out of his jacket as she led him in, and tossed it on the floor as they moved together toward her bed.

Emily’s room was the opposite of how he’d expected it to look. She was so conservative in her clothing that he’d expected a lot of beige and boring. This room was anything but. The walls were burgundy, the décor plush. There was a crazy octagonal theme to things – even her picture frames were octagons – and her bed was this massive circle with a big stuffed headboard.

In short, it looked like a rather naughty boudoir.

He liked that, a lot. And he especially liked the look of that big, decadent bed. “Now that’s going to be amazing to fuck in,” he said, eyeing it. “Hot damn.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she told him, and kissed at the base of his neck, where his skin was exposed. “I bought it post-divorce.”

“So we’re going to break it in together? Excellent.”

She laughed. “I guess we are.”

“Can I do the honors?” He asked her, pulling at the tie of her terry bathrobe. It wasn’t the sexiest thing – rather frumpy, actually – but it still made him hard. Just picturing her underneath the layers of clothing was making his dick like iron.

Emily nodded and lifted her arms above her head to give him access to her clothing.

He tugged at one side of the belt and the entire knot came loose. The front fell open, showing flannel pajamas underneath.

She put her hands to her face and made an embarrassed noise. “God, this has to be the lamest seduction outfit ever.”

“Well, it’s not like you were expecting company,” he said, and had her lower her arms so he could finish pulling it off. The robe fell to the ground in a pool of terry cloth, and he began to work on her pajamas. He undid the first button at the top of her top, revealing a bit more of her neck and some cleavage. Rather impressive cleavage, he had to admit. Emily hid a lot under her clothing. Jericho ran a finger down the bared skin. He felt a slight tremor move through her. “Shall I go on?”

“Please do,” she murmured. “I’m not scared. At least, not of you. Of ghosts, yes,” she said wryly. “I’m just…a little sensitive. It’s been a while for me.”

“Sensitive, huh? That sounds interesting.” Interesting, as in, his dick was fucking hard as a rock just thinking about that little shiver. He could see her nipples pebbling under her pajama top and wanted to take them into his mouth. Soon.

She was watching him with wide eyes, her gaze on his face as he undid the next button.

More cleavage came into view, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of what lay underneath. He brushed aside the fabric, revealing her breasts. They were soft and full, with plump rosy nipples at the tip of each. Not perky – they were too large for that – but delicious all the same. He savored the look of them as he continued to slowly undo the buttons on her top, noting that her breathing was increasing with anticipation. Hell, his was too, and his normally loose sleep pants were growing tight around the groin. If his dick grew any harder, it’d start poking her in the stomach.

At last, the damn buttons were done. Emily hadn’t said a word as he worked on undressing her, just stood there, silent and utterly still. “You know,” he said as he brushed the fabric off her shoulders. “For someone that says they’re not scared, you’re sure quiet.”

“Just thinking,” she said softly.

Well now, any time a woman was thinking while a man undressed her wasn’t a good thing. “About?”

A flush stained her cheeks. “If you’re tattooed or pierced anywhere that might surprise me.”

So she was picturing him naked? Well, well, well. “Got some more tats but no surprising piercings. Don’t want anything that punches a hole getting near my junk.”

She giggled, the sound surprisingly shy.

“That disappoint you? That my dick doesn’t have as many ornaments as a Christmas tree?”

“Of course not! I was just, you know, wondering.”

“If I get one, you’ll be the first person I show, deal?”