Page 91 of Strictly the Worst

“And the panties?” I whisper. Because that’s all I have left on.

“That depends.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face. He looks like a little kid in a toyshop as he takes me in.

This man makes me feel wanted. Special.

“Depends on what?” I ask him.

“Depends on if I’m the kind of guy you’d take your panties off for.”

I reach down to cup his face, feeling the roughness of his jaw against my palms. My heart is thudding against my chest. This man is just so damn attractive.

“What if you take them off,” I ask him, ignoring the way my heart is racing.

I can feel his smile against my hands. Taking them from his face he stands up, though he doesn’t let my hands go. Instead he pulls me closer to him so there are only inches between us. He’s wearing a pair of wet jeans and I’m wearing… well almost nothing.

“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,” he tells me. There’s a truth to his voice that hits me right in the heart. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

“It’s only been a few weeks since we left Exuma,” I tell him.

“Exactly. A fucking millennium.”

Our eyes lock. And part of me knows I need to be careful. It would be so easy to fall for this man. He makes me laugh, which is something I haven’t done in a very long time. He helps me with my messy, falling apart house. The man even knows how to talk to my lovely, but sometimes stroppy teenage daughter.

“You okay?” he asks.

Oh, and he does that too. Checks in with me. Makes sure I’m ready.

I like that more than anything.

“I am,” I breathe.

He puts his hand beneath my chin, tipping my head up until my lips are almost touching his.

“Just so I know,” he murmurs. “How boring do you want this to be?”

I start to shake with laughter as he kisses me, his lips soft against mine. He runs his palm down my back, into the dip of it as his tongue slides inside my mouth. Tasting, giving, causing shivers to snake down my spine.

Before I can kiss him again he drops to his knees. “This is getting to be a habit,” he mutters.

“I like you down there.”

There’s a wicked glint in his eye. “I know that, Carmichael. Now let’s get these off.” He tugs at my panties, sliding them down my hips and legs, then helping me step out of them.

“Christ you’re wet.” He grins and throws them to the floor, then lifts me gently onto the mattress. “Do you really sleep on the floor every night?” he asks, frowning.

“Mmm.”

“Have you touched yourself in here since you’ve been back from Exuma?” He tips his head to the side, waiting for my answer.

“Maybe…” I feel suddenly coy. Which is stupid because this man has already been inside of me. He’s made me come more times than I can remember.

“Were you thinking about me?”

My lips part. “Sometimes.”

“I thought about you every time,” he tells me. “Every single damn time I touched myself. Which was a fucking lot.”

He pops the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down, before forcing the wet denim to the floor. I can see the thick ridge of him pushing against his shorts. I’d forgotten how hard he could get.

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