Page 19 of So Wrong It Must Be Right

“I think I recall,” he said dryly. Because of course he remembered. He remembered all of it. Too much, too clearly, especially now that he had this vision of the real D to impose over all those old images. Now he could see it all, with her, as if it actually happened.

Her finger trailed down the length of him and back up again, her eyes mischievous and bright. “Do you think your neighbor would mind?”

“I’ll keep my eyes open for any window peepers.”

“I think it’s only considered window peeping if you’re outside looking in.”

He took one hand off the door, the strength of his other hand the only thing keeping him upright in the face of Dinah’s practically offering to blow him on his front porch.

He was a man. He wasn’t going to refuse the insinuated offer. He pushed some of the stray strands of hair off her forehead and then raked his fingers through the top of her ponytail. Then he gave her a gentle nudge on the top of her head.

Her smile spread, wide and gorgeous, and he wasn’t sure how long he would last with that sweet mouth on his cock, but he needed it like oxygen.

Slowly, acting the tease she’d always claimed to be in her emails, she lowered herself farther and farther down until she was on her knees, on his porch, for him.

They were angled so the porch light was behind him, keeping her in shadow. Not that he could muster up the brainpower to care if someone might walk by and see what was happening.

She tugged his jeans down to midthigh and then pulled the waistband of his boxers away from his abdomen so that she could pull the thick length of him out. She curled her hand around him. Hot. Soft. Perfect. She looked up at him through dark lashes, the curve of a dangerous smile still lighting up her face. She stuck out her tongue and rubbed the tip across her top lip before starting at the very base of him. Lightly, all too lightly, she licked up to the head.

His fingers tightened in her hair, and she groaned in approval, so he didn’t loosen his hold. He held her there, urging her face closer.

“Open that hot little mouth for me.”

She groaned again, all pleasure, all approval. It was insane this excitement between them. They could say things like that and not feel one jolt of embarrassment.

Or maybe it was just that she did exactly as he said and opened her mouth. Forhim. Sucking him deep into all that wet, delicious heat. So deep he had to close his eyes just to keep upright, just to think, just to breathe.

But he forced himself to open them after that, to watch her take him in, slow and deep, and then out again. Her gaze held his the entire time, as though she got something out of what he could only assume was an expression of pure, unadulterated pleasure on his face.

Her tongue teased as she drove him further and further away from sanity. Which was exactly where he wanted to be. As far away from sanity and reality as he could get.

He could feel the orgasm coiling around him, and he could try to fight it off, he could try to get her there first, but that wasn’t what they’d emailed that time.

She’d wanted him to be so excited he couldn’t hold back. She’d written some truly filthy stuff about getting him off. Remembering that had him moving his hips with her.

“I’m going to come, D.” A warning. A chance for her to back off or away. To go inside instead of bringing him to orgasm in the chilly night air.

Her gaze met his and she didn’t stop. If anything she moved faster, harder. He couldn’t hold it off—the pleasure that overcame him, through him. The bursting, bright release and her taking it all, easily, maybe even enthusiastically.

His ears were ringing by the time he slowly eased out of her mouth, and he wasn’t sure he would consider himself steady on his feet.

There was a new need inside of him now. A need to give. To drive her just as crazy as she drove him. He jerked her to her feet and grabbed his keys out of his pocket.

“The second we’re inside, your clothes better be off because I’m going to make you come all over my mouth.”

She grinned at him, doing the tongue thing again where the tip of her tongue traced her upper lip. He jammed the key in the lock and shoved the door open, nudging her inside.

As she stepped forward, she was already taking off her shirt. She was wearing a very serviceable white bra, nothing like all of the lacy, frilly lingerie she’d described to him over the past few months. But even simple underwear did nothing to lessen the punch that was D.

She pulled off her boots, then shimmied out of her jeans, taking her underwear with it. Without hesitation, she unclasped her bra and dropped it so she was standing naked in front of him.

Freckles and acres of pale skin, the rosy tips of her nipples gathered in a tight bud he wanted to bite. But first . . . first, he was going to make her scream.

He advanced on her and she just stood there and smiled at him as he grabbed her. He devoured her mouth as though he were a drowning man. Because that’s what it felt like. Only this kind of drowning was perfect. Everything he needed.

He managed to wrench his mouth away from hers and gestured toward the rug. “Get on the floor.” He didn’t soften the rough note in his voice, and she obeyed.

He pulled off his shirt as she lay down. He kneeled at her feet, curling his fingers around her ankles and slowly spreading them apart before sliding his hands up her calves and thighs, his body following until his mouth was only inches from where he planned to devour her now.

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