Foster swallowed. He could feel himself growing hard against her, but couldn’t bring himself to back away and let her go. Leaning down to press his forehead against hers, he enjoyed the way her arms tightened around him, her legs spreading wider so the thickness of his cock nestled against her denim-clad pussy. When her breath caught in her throat, he knew she could feel him against her.

“Linz, what are you doing to me?” he whispered against her mouth.

Her hand came up to his chest, and he was afraid for a moment that she might push him away. But instead, her hand traveled further up until it was around his neck, urging him to her.

Foster descended, his lips taking hers. This wasn’t a sweet, soft kiss. This was a blistering possession of her mouth.

She wasn’t hesitant like she’d been the first time he’d kissed her. She let her guard down, holding him firmly to her as her tongue played alongside his. A groan tore from his throat as his tongue surged deeper. He slid his hands to her ass and cupped those gorgeous round cheeks, holding her close as he pressed himself firmly to her. He wanted her to feel what she did to him.

“Foster,” she said on a half-moan, letting her head drop back. “We shouldn’t.”

But she leaned her head to the side, exposing her graceful neck. He couldn’t resist. He traced his tongue down her chin, nibbling at the smooth skin of her neck. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

When his teeth nipped, he felt Linzee’s hands clench against his shoulders as she moaned and ground her body to his as if she couldn’t get close enough.

His control was slipping fast. Gripping her backside, he lifted her onto the island, so her face was even with his. She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles at the back of his waist.

He needed her. Now.

Chapter Seven

At the warmth of Foster’s lips on her neck, Linzee knew she was in big trouble. With every stroke of his tongue on her sensitive skin, her body quivered, melting just a little more in his embrace. She wrapped an arm around his neck, urging his mouth to hers again. Her other hand went to his waist, slipping beneath the sweatshirt he wore, and she almost groaned at the feel of his heated skin.

His lips explored hers, then trailed over her jaw, down her neck and back up again, as her hands roamed over his back. She barely realized that she’d begun thrusting her hips, rubbing herself against the large erection that pressed against her pussy. “You feel so good,” she said on a little whine. She wanted him so much.

“Linzee, sugar.” He pulled away to look into her eyes. She could tell that his control was slipping just as much as hers was. “I need you. Right here. Right now.” He searched her face as if looking for an answer. “If you want me to stop, you need to tell me. Tell me to stop. Because in a few seconds, I don’t know if I can.”

She grinned up at him as she trailed her fingers around to his front, enjoying the way his abs tightened as she stroked his bare skin.

“Don’t stop, Foster. I don’t want you to stop. I need you inside of me.”

At her words, something inside of him seemed to break, and he crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss that told her he was a man who took exactly what he wanted. His hands flew to the hem of her sweater, and he pushed it up. He separated his mouth from hers only long enough to pull the sweater over her head.

When he reached around her back for the clasp of her bra, she stiffened. Her breasts weren’t young and perky. She was forty. She’d had a child. Saying her breasts sagged a little would have been an accurate statement ten years ago. But now? Now, she felt as though she needed to fold the damn things up just to tuck them into her bra each morning.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, probably sensing her sudden unease.

She took a deep breath. How did she tell him she was insecure with her body? She was sure that was a huge turn-off. “Nothing,” she stammered. “I was just thinking that we could, um … I don’t know, maybe turn the lights off?”

He looked at her in disbelief as though she’d just asked him to put on a dress and do the hula.

After a long moment, his eyes narrowed. “No, we cannot turn the lights off, Linzee.”

Shit, that was what she’d figured. He was going to take one look at her and realize he’d made a huge mistake.

He curled a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his searching eyes.

“Sugar, do you not want me to see you?”

She took a deep breath. “Foster, my body isn’t what you’re used to, I’m sure. I mean, I—I’m older than you. My boobs aren’t young and perky.”

His frustrated sigh silenced her. Finally he said, “No, you’re right.”

At his words, she jerked her eyes to his. Her ex-husband always told her how inadequate her body was, but for some reason, it made her want to cry that Foster might think that too.

But then he continued. “Your boobs aren’t small and perky. They’re full and luscious, and gorgeous.”

“Foster, you don’t have to say—”