Page 66 of S.O.S. Billboard

He drew away. “Up?”

What did she mean?

“Mmm, hmmm,” O’Shea agreed. “Behind my ear.”

Ahh. Good to know.

O’Shea not only displayed humor during foreplay, she was vocal about what she wanted. Which made Billboard think back to her clit reference. With O’Shea as a verbal guidebook, whatkind of clueless asshole wouldn’t have been able to locate her hot-button?

The selfish kind.

Which Billboard wasn’t.

Which meant he’d follow directions, and then some. He headed straight for the sensitive skin behind her ear, scraping it with his teeth and rubbing it with his late-day chin-bristle, all-the-while palming one small breast.

“Yesss,” she hissed.

Billboard almost stopped.

Shock shot through him.

His palm, which had grasped the sweetest little breast, was suddenly stabbed by O’Shea’s nipple, and his composure—what there was of it—nearly shattered. He knew her perky breasts were small, because, duh, he’d looked his share whenever he thought he might not get caught, but he’d never imagined that her engorged nipple would be noteworthy; as in, it was huge.

He couldn’t wait to suck that impressive detonator into his mouth.

“Bed, Billboard. Now,” O’Shea groaned, dragging his face back to hers to attack his mouth again.

Right.Her nipples would have to wait.

His feet headed in the prescribed direction, as part of Billboard’s brain marveled.

Had he ever imagined he’d like a bossy woman in bed? Probably not, but O’Shea’s mouthiness was proving to be a huge, unexpected turn-on.

He couldn’t wait to see whatelseshe could do with that mouth.

Visions of her sucking his cock down her throat; wrapping those pretty lips around his steel column of flesh, had his feet stumbling faster toward his room. But first things first. Before he contemplated any bodily satisfaction of his own, heneeded her naked, and he needed her thighs spread. Billboard’s overwhelming desire to taste O’Shea’s womanly essence was a priority.

His legs finally bumped into the mattress, and he bent over to lay O’Shea down so he could take a long look at what he was about to unwrap, but she hung onto his shoulders, bringing him right along with her.

Before he quite knew what was happening, she had his zipper down, his cock out in her hot palm—yes—and her legs wrapped around him.

It took all his strength to lift his head. “No,” he rasped. “I’m going to eat you first. Now let go of my dick so I can suck on that clit until you scream my name. Then we can fuck.”

“Mmm. Dirty talk. I didn’t know you had it in you, Billboard,” she preened. “But… Fuck first,” she commanded, moving her hand firmly up and down his shaft before leaving him hard and wanting, to unfasten her jeans and lower her zipper.

Billboard, braced on his elbows above her, looked down at the spread placket, catching a glimpse of his engorged cock bumping up against a small, hot-pink thong. He groaned.

“So?” she asked breathlessly, arching up into him.

“So, behave,” Billboard growled.

Conjuring his last shred of control, he grabbed both her hands with one of his, and trapped them above her head.

A spark of hunger lit in her eyes.

Oh, so she liked that, huh? Billboard tightened his hold a bit, then eased to one side of O’Shea, using his free hand to delve down into that naughty little scrap of material.

He encountered…

---