Page 20 of No Angels

I arch back into the wall when his callused thumb grazes me over the cotton of my bra.

“Fuck, I want to see what color your nipples are,” he rasps into the curve behind my ear and grazes the other one.

“What’s stopping you?” I taunt. This is going way too fast and spiraling out of control and I should reel us back from the edge, but the words get stuck in my throat. Maybe this is exactly whatI need. It’s only our second kiss and we haven’t let go since we were eighteen. But I don’t care. No matter where this goes, it feels more right than anything else in my life.

“Nothing now,” he growls and yanks my shirt up. He doesn’t bother unhooking my bra, he just tugs the cups down.

I love how impatient he’s being. Like he can’t get enough of me fast enough.

He stares so long at the skin he just bared, I try to wrestle my wrists free so I can cover up.

“Nope. You’re not going anywhere.”

He brushes his thumb over me again, his face full of wonder and obsession. His touch is so gentle and worshipful, I close my eyes.

“I knew they’d be the same color as your lips, like little red raspberries winking up at me in the sunlight.”

“I never took you for a poet, Callihan. And raspberries, really? You used to throw the rotten ones at me when we were kids.”

“Yep. Even then I thought you were cute when you were mad.”

I thump him in the shoulder with my fist. “So you’ve always had intentions.”

“Just like the ones I have now – but they’re all grown up and we’re playing a different version of tag you’re it. No more questions. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The way he rumbles out the warning makes my heart skip a beat, my pulse pound, and heat pool low in my stomach. Part of me wants to keep asking questions so I can find out what happens if he has to tell me again.

When his lips land on mine this time, I can see every single one of his intentions shimmering between us. When the swooping kiss becomes the slide of his thumbs over the peaks of my breasts, I squirm. He chuckles darkly and flattens me against the wall, so there’s no space between our bodies and I can feel exactly how much he wants me.

He kisses the corner of my mouth again and then his lips skate down my throat and land on my breast. He sucks me into the hot vortex of his mouth, and I know his teeth and tongue will paint my nipple dark red. His hand slides under the waistband of my pants, and then he pulls them down with a determined grip.

I catch my breath when he crouches in front of me.

“I bet you wore these pretty black panties for me, Bumble Bee.” His tongue strokes me through the thick silk and I moan, blindly grabbing for something to anchor me. My hands land on his ears and he laughs. “So you want to steer. I’ll let you.”

He dips his head again, and holy saints, how was his ex-wife able to leave him behind if he’s so good at this? I’m glad she’s an idiot.

I tug on his hair. “Come back up here for a second.”

He blinks up at me like I lost my mind. “No woman has ever said that to me while I’m doing this,” he smirks.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” I could kick the voice of my conscience or whatever it is, but I need to make sure this is what I want and need. This is more than a flare of heat we can’t ignore. This is something that’s been building our whole lives and I don’t want to ruin everything.

He rises to his feet and drops his forehead to mine. “I don’t think so. I’ve been waiting for you for most of my life, Bumble Bee.” He takes a deep breath and I feel the vibration where his chest is pressed against mine. “But if you’re having second thoughts about me and what’s happening, tell me now. Because I can wait as long as I need to and I don’t want to mess this up.”

His deep brown gaze is earnest and I can see the way he feels about me flickering in its depths.

“I’m not going to let us mess this up,” I tell him.

“I won’t either. Now,” he starts sliding back down my body. “Can I pick up where I left off?”

All I can manage is a grunt of assent when I feel the tickle of his beard against my inner thigh. He slides his nose down the crease, skating it along the elastic of my bikini briefs. He sets his mouth against my center and blows against the damp fabric, and then he slips his thumb and forefinger under the edge. He flickshis thumb over my clit and sinks his finger in just past the first knuckle.

“Don’t let the dinner burn.”

“Nothing’s going to burn except you, Cassidy. I already turned down the crockpot and there’s nothing that needs my attention right now besides you.”

“How long have you been prepping for my arrival?”

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