Page 51 of Knotted Laces

I need horizontal.

I need naked.

I needAthena.

Spinning us, I stride to the counter, plunking her onto the edge and reaching for her shirt, but our hands tangle as she reaches for mine at the same time.

She swats at me. “Stop it.”

“I’m trying to get you naked,” I growl.

“I’m trying to getyounaked,” she counters.

“I think we’ll both like you naked more.” Oh the things I’ve dreamed about doing to her. The things I’mgoingto do to her.

“That’s debatable,” she grumbles but lifts her arms, allows me to tug her shirt up and over her head. “Especially since I’ve seenyounaked.”

She’s not wearing a bra and the sight of her glorious tits bouncing, her pink-tipped nipples hardening beneath my gaze, means that it takes me a minute to process what she’s just said. “When have you seen me naked?”

“Yes—” She hisses out a breath as I settle my hands on her waist and start slowly dragging them up along her sides, tracing them forward over the smooth skin of her abdomen. “—terday.”

“When?”

“When I woke you up.”

“When you tried to drown me, you mean,” I tease, sliding them a little higher, drifting them in a little closer. Six inches from the motherland. Two. One. A half.

“I was not—” Her breath hitches when I allow my hands to shift higher, to cup her breasts. “I wasn’t trying to drown you,” she groans, grabbing my wrists and pressing my hands to her, placing her palms on my fingers, coaxing me to squeeze her tits.

Okay, fine. She doesn’t have to coax much.

I’m already massaging those lush curves, feeling the hardened bud of her nipples on my palm, listening to the soft inhales of her breath. “No?” I ask, barely able to hold the thread of conversation. “Sure felt like it.”

“It’s not my fault”—I roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, revel in the soft moan that escapes her lips—“that I’m a heavy sleeper.”

“It sure—oh God!—fucking is.”

My lips twitch as I pinch a little harder. “Isnot.”

Hot brown eyes on mine. “Is—” I lean down and suck one of those pink buds into my mouth. “To,” she finishes on a hiss.

The fact that we’re arguing while I’m actively touching—finallytouching—this gorgeous woman’s body isn’t lost on me, but I can’t seem to stop.

Same as I can’t stop myself from whispering, “Is not,” just before I close my lips around that sensitive bud and suck.

“Is—” She groans, her head falling back against the cabinets. “To.”

“Is—” But then she shocks the shit out of me because she’s suddenly shoving me backward, dropping to her knees in front of me, and?—

“Ohfuck,” I groan, my knees going week. It takes every bit of focus to keep them locked so I don’t collapse and take her down alongside me. “Ats. Ohfuck.”

Her tongue is…fucking sin personified, and the hint of teeth makes me shiver and groan again when she runs them along my shaft, taking me deep, so deep that I bump the back of her throat. Then she starts working me with her hand, and the tight grip, the suction, the lips and teeth and tongue?—

Right.

This isn’t going to work for me.

I mean, it’sworking.

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