Page 58 of Some Like It Hott

“I…” She rubs her thumb over her bottom lip, drawing my eye there, and I have to make myself look away rather than lean in to bite the plump flesh. “I’ve had it on my to-do list for months to look at the brochures and websites. And I…never do. I don’t think—no, Iknow—I don’t want to.” She takes a deep breath. “Ilovemy job. I wish my mom could see that. She wants me to do something with long-term prospects. A”—she crooks her fingers in quotes—“career.”

I make a sharp sound of frustration. “She’s not being fair to you.”

It sounds blunter and more presumptuous than I mean it to, and I want to take it back. Especially in light of how unfairIwas to Natalie in the beginning.

She looks away. “She and my dad are high powered. She’s chief of surgery, and my dad’s a retired state supreme court justice. My sister’s a biochemical engineer, and her hubby is some corporate hotshot doing global whatever it is. I’m not like them. And I’ve always been the kid who—underachieved.”

“Who they perceived as underachieving,” I correct.

Her eyes flick to mine, and there’s something bright and hopeful in them. I think of her saying that no one had ever stood up for her before—and what kind of bullshit is that?

She closes her eyes, opens them again. “When I was in high school, I came downstairs one night and overheard them talking about me. My mom was asking my dad, ‘Whatdoeshaving fun all the time equip you for?’ and my dad said ‘Not much’ and laughed.”

“Jesus,” I breathe, rage rising in me again.

“Then my mom said, ‘It’s like she was born completely without ambition,’ and my dad said, ‘She’s the one we’ll have in our basement till she’s fifty.’”

She reports it coolly, unemotionally, and a band cinches around my chest. “Natalie.”

She waves it off. “Whatever. I know they never meant for me to overhear it. They were worried about me and blowing off steam.”

“They shouldn’t have said it,” I say roughly. “Because it was cruel, but also because it’s not true. You’re—” I have to stop because the words feel so big they’re half choking me. “You’re good at what you do, and what you do matters. You’re funny and generous and giving andfun. So fuck them if they can’t see that.”

“Preston.”

Her voice breaks on my name, and it scoops out my chest. All the logic and caution, all the excuses and reasons go up in flame, and I turn my body toward her, finally doing what I’ve wanted to do all day, taking her head in my cupped hands and lowering my face to hers.

Her mouth is soft, and she opens to me right away, without hesitation. She lets out a small gasp, and it undoes me. I clutch the back of her head, swallowing her moans, running my tongue along her lip and biting it to make her moan again.

The kiss is on fire, my cock already so hard I can’t help but tug her toward me, and she comes readily, willingly,eagerly, pressing her slick belly to me, giving me pressure and friction. I want more of her, though: I want to fit us together, all our opposites perfectly made for each other.

Without breaking the kiss, I lift her up and set her on the side of the pool, and she scoots herself forward, spreading her thighs so I can step between them and notch my hardness to her soft heat. Steam rises off her skin; the air is cooler than the water.

“Preston,” she moans.

“Is this okay? Is this what you want?”

“Yes,please,” she whimpers.

“Can I touch you?”

“You’d better.”

I reach for the strings of her top, and my hand ghosts over her skin, raising goose bumps and drawing a whimper from her. I untie both bows and let the top fall. She makes a startled sound as the air finds her nipples, and I watch, cock hardening in sympathy, as they tighten against that cool brush. She watches me watch her, and there’s something raw and hungry in her face.

“Like this?” I ask.

It’s the lightest touch. The pads of my fingers skimming the peak barely harder than the air brushed over her. But her nipple tightens more.

“It makes me hard, watching your nipples get stiff,” I tell her.

Her mouth opens. “Preston Hott, are you talking dirty to me?”

I can’t hold back my smile. “I guess I am.”

I stroke both nipples as lightly as I can, watching the play of pleasure across her face. Then I dip my head and take one into my mouth. It’s a tight bead against my tongue, and I flick the tip, loving the taste of her skin and the moans I draw out of her. She pushes closer to me, trying to get more contact between my cock and her pussy, and I cup her ass and yank her closer because I want it, too. Fuck, I want it. Now she’s tipping her hips and rubbing herself against my erection, and it’s not only the sensation—which is fierce—but also knowing that she’s chasing her orgasm that makes me feel like I’m going to lose it. I pull back, and she groans.

“Tease.”

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