Flushed, she rests back, bracing herself up by the elbows on my soft mattress, and I stroll in after her, flipping on a newly acquired table lamp from Target. I give my shirt collar a tug, loosening the top button and leisurely sliding it through the hole. One. Two. Two buttons undone.
Those hypnotic blue eyes never leave my face.
Three buttons.
The pads of Tabitha’s fingertips lightly caress my white duvet cover, stroking it softly. “Are these the crisp, clean sheets that Greyson said would be nice to roll around on that day I found you shopping?”
“Hell yeah.” A chuckle escapes my throat.
She swallows and licks those juicy lips. “Good choice.”
My fingers pull a fourth button unfastened. Five. “You impressed? I got me a new wine bottle opener, too.”
“Oh, fancy.” Her voice is throaty and breathless.
“You like the sheets, Tabitha?”
“Oh yeah.”
Six.
“You should see yourself. Hair all over, skin all hot. I couldn’t be more turned on. You’re so fucking sexy.”
Her hooded eyes leave my face to rake me up and down, searing, as I pluck button number seven free. “So are you.”
“You know what would make us even sexier?”
Eight.
“What?” she says in the barest hint of a whisper.
Her legs part voluntarily when I kneel… go down on bended knee… unbuckle the thin straps on her high-heeled shoes, each one the same color as her flesh and sexy as shit. I remove them both and kiss the top of her foot before tossing both heels off to the side. They hit the closet door with a loud thud. I ignore them, running my palms up her silky thighs, letting them roam up and under the skirt of her dress, parting the seam in the process.
I watch, transfixed, as Tabitha’s eyes flutter shut, losing herself in the feel of my hands gliding across her skin.
Still on my knees, I inch forward to settle myself between her legs and wrap my arms around her waist. I trail kisses along her collarbone, the glowing skin where her shoulder and neck meet.
Tabitha tips her head back to give my greedy-as-fuck lips access, her long blonde hair falling to the comforter, cascading like a waterfall. Stunning. I take a few strands, rubbing them between two fingers, then lift them to my nose.
“Your hair smells amazing.” I drop the locks and my lips speak into the hollow of her neck. “You smell like I want to do this.”
This is my tongue trailing the length of her collarbone.
Tabitha moans, stiffening slightly.
“What are we doing, Collin? What are we doing,” she pants. “This isn’t me. I don’t d-do one-night stands.” She releases another moan when my tongue licks the hollow between her breasts. “I’m a… mmm... relationship kind of girl.”
“So am I,” I respond dumbly, my mouth nipping her bare skin, hands pushing aside the soft fabric of her dress, lips grazing her bare shoulder.
Tabitha gives her head a little shake.
“I would never bring this up, but… oh god, that feels good… we’re stuck with each other no matter what. Cal and Grey are going to end up married and… mmmm… we’re going to be in each other’s lives whether… your tongue is amazing… or not.”
Tabitha threads her fingers through my hair, roughly raking her nails along my scalp. Her back is arched with pleasure, and my large hands move up and down her spine, kneading. I wet the pulse in her neck with my tongue, too. “Good. I want you to be stuck with me. You’re so goddamn sexy.”
I wonder if she knows what a turn-on her brain is, her mind.
No lie.
“What will our parents say?” she asks with bated breath into my hair as my fingers splay across her middle, enjoying the feel of her silky dress beneath my fingers. But not for long: she needs to be naked. “All their kids dating each other. Collin, it’s not normal.”
“Who gives a shit? I don’t.” My mouth finds purchase on the swells of her breasts and my fingers deftly work the belt on her dress. Swiftly. Done. “You’re beautiful.”
Her fingers continue their savage plunge through my—
“I love your thick hair.”
I’m close to purring like a goddamn jungle cat when she massages my scalp. “I love your hands.”
“I love your hands.”
These hands are going to make her feel even better. I nuzzle her cleavage again with my nose and inhale the musk of her perfume.
“I fucking love your boobs.” I palm one through her dress. “Definitely love these boobs.”
Tabitha tips her head back and laughs through a gasp. “Take off your shirt.”
Oh, now she’s giving orders? “Take off your dress.”
But I stand to pull the last few pearl buttons through their holes. She stops me.
“Wait, let me do it.”
I watch, mesmerized, as her nimble fingers fly down the seam of my shirt. She spreads her hands on my bare chest when she succeeds in releasing the remaining button. Her palms span flat over my washboard abs.
Her breath hitches in wonderment. “I was right.”
“About?”
“This is one of the happiest trails I’ve ever seen.” Still sitting on the edge of my bed, the tip of her finger leisurely traces the narrow path of hair that runs from my belly button, and disappears into the waistband of my pants.
I swallow. “When… when were you thinking about my happy trail?” She stands, both palms traveling flat over my abs, roaming the length of my stomach, pecs, and up, over my shoulders. Unhurriedly, they descend again towards my belt buckle in such a slow, deliberate pace it almost makes my leg twitch with urgency.
Like a dog in heat.
“When was I thinking about all this? Hmm…” Tabitha hums. The sound of metal coming unfastened, leather sliding, and a thud on the ground are the only sounds filling the air. “The minute I found out you weren’t Greyson’s new boyfriend, my mind went there. And stayed there.”
Her talented fingers work the fly of my pants, then the zipper.
Jesus.
I bite my lip and deeply inhale towards the ceiling, count to… to… shit yes… to control my breathing as my large body begins to vibrate, strumming high with eagerness.
Tabitha’s fingers skim my waistband, tormenting. Grasping my black slacks, she finally fucking pushes them down my hips. I step out of the legs, kicking them aside like a Neanderthal so they land in a heap near her shoes, out of the way. It wouldn’t be cool to trip on that shit once we’re frantically stumbling around bare-ass naked.
And we will be naked soon.
Guaranteed.
She teases, stroking me with a feather-light touch. “You really do have the best hands,” I damn near whimper. It sounds like I’m whining as goosebumps cover my skin.
Fucking goosebumps—and she hasn’t even stroked my cock yet.
“That’s what all the boys say.” She giggles then at my sullen expression. “What? I’ve always wanted to use that line out loud.”
“Maybe you should use it in your next book.”
“Maybe I should.”
Impatiently, I begin working the sash on her dress, yanking it free and letting it limply fall to the side. My fingers, of their own accord, pursue her skin like a heat-seeking missile. Tabitha bites her lower lip when I push her dress all the way open, permitting the pads of my hands to roam her body, the flat planes of her stomach, the plump breasts pressed together by a sheer, nearly transparent push-up bra.
Barely there, flesh-toned G-string.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think… “Were you planning on getting naked tonight?”
With a single shrug, off comes the dress. It cascades to the floor. “You’ll never know, will you? And I’ll never tell.”
Tabitha Thompson, you secretive little sneak.
My hands reach out, grab on, and toss her on the waiting bed.
It wants to get laid, too.
When our clothes fall to the carpet and the pile of fabric is discarded, I waste no time scooting to the center of Collin’s bed in my bra and panties. It’s been who knows how many months since anyone has touched me intimately, and my body is alive with everything for Collin.
He follows on all fours, crawling towards me from the foot of the bed, kissing his way up my leg, starting at my ankles, dusting kisses on the insides of my thighs that leave me trembling almost uncontrollably.
I spread my legs desperately, affording him easier access to all my sensitive spots, because let’s face it—it feels ah-freaking-mazing and my inner slut has apparently been unleashed.
I want it so bad.
I do everything but thrash my head around on the pillow as Collin’s mouth grazes my stomach at the same time his forefinger hooks itself under the seam of my sheer underwear. The rude asshole teases with a tug, releasing the elastic with a snap and leaves them on.
I touch his shoulders, urging him upward till he stops, his mouth latching onto my nipple through my bra, sucking and sucking and swirling his tongue until the mesh is soaked through.
“Oh j-jesus that f-feels…” Yeah. That good.
When our mouths finally meet, we’re tortured and aroused at the same time, noisily groaning our relief. His large, hard body is smooth and firm, and I can feel every inch of him.
Every solid inch.
He’s so hard.
His dick is so hard.
It feels s-so… so… oh god...
But I’m not relieved—not nearly—and won’t be until he gives me what we both want. Lord, listen to me, using words I’ve written in my own books—chapter seven, as a matter of fact.