Page 29 of The Grinder

His mouth dried with her every word until his lungs felt heavy and tight. He sucked in air, his gaze locked on hers. She could talk all night and he didn’t think he’d ever get bored. Especially not if she kept talking like this.

And kept stroking her nails along the fabric over his nipples, making them hard and sensitive. Her nails were just long enough to catch on the fabric and on his nipples, the slight sting as she caught the little piece of flesh on each upward stroke making his cock throb even harder.

“Give me a guy in tight boxers and my panties get wet.”

Holy fuck. This girl might actually give better sexy talk than he did.

How the hell had he gotten so damn lucky? Time to up his game.

“So I guess you wanna take my pants off now, too? ’Cause I gotta tell you, I think you’re gonna like what you find.”

Luckily for him, he was mainly a boxer-brief guy, though he did have a couple pairs of tighty-whiteys in his drawers.

Her smile widened as her fingers continued their way down his chest, over his stomach, stopping just short of his waistband, where his cock pressed against the zipper with ever-increasing force.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for the whole unveiling just yet.”

Her fingers made that statement a lie as she moved her hand just enough that her nails brushed over the zipper of his pants.

“Then maybe you need to take a little time-out and let me help you out of a few of your clothes. Maybe I wanna see what you’re hiding. Cotton? Silk? Bikinis? Granny panties?”

She laughed and the sound sparked fire along his nerve endings.

“You’re out of luck if you’re excited about the granny panties.”

“Well, damn. Maybe next time.”

Her fingers stuttered back up over his stomach. “Maybe we should concentrate on the first time for now.”

“I’m a guy who likes to plan ahead.”

“And what exactly are you planning now?”

“How I can get you to unzip my pants.”

Her gaze flashed back up to his and, though her smile wasn’t as wide, it was infinitely hotter and promised things he could only dream about.

“I think the magic word is ‘please.’”

Lifting his hands to cup her face, he drew her closer. Their lips only a hair’s breadth away, he whispered, “Please,” and watched her lashes flutter before he sealed their lips together and kissed her like he needed her to breathe.

Her palms pressed to his chest as she opened her mouth and tangled her tongue with his, licking and sucking and giving him everything he wanted and more.

He almost missed the fact that her hands were moving down his body as she rose slightly onto her knees. But when her fingers danced along his waistband, he groaned and his hands dropped to her waist and tried to pull her closer.

She resisted, probably because her hands were working at his belt. So he eased up and gave her room to work. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the way she was taking her time.

He’d always been a fast-gratification kind of guy. He loved hockey for its speed, got a rush out of the exhilaration.

He was getting the same thrill from Aly’s breathtakingly slow unbuckling of his belt. Tensed from his shoulders through his calves, he tried to loosen his muscles. But when she finally separated the two ends and her fingers pressed into his abdomen to release the button, he jerked her closer.

Her lips curved against his and she pulled back just far enough to speak.

“I’m beginning to think you have no patience, Mr. Hatch.”

“I’m beginning to think you like torturing me.”

“This is torture?”

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