Page 68 of Finding Forever

“Do you want to finish what we started?” His voice was so gruff she felt it like a physical scrape over her beaded nipples anddown there, where she still clenched and spasmed after the loss of his heat and hardness.

She kept her eyes trained on his, needing him to know that she meant this. That shewantedit.

“Yes.”

“But Fern… This can’t mean anything. We’re scratching an itch. We both want it. It’s just sex. It’s convenient. But it can get complicated. If you have any uh… any feelings for me. We shouldn’t dothis.”

“As you pointed out the other day, we don’t know each other,” she whispered, trying to keep that ever-present sting of rejection from her voice as she laid out what were—after all—the facts. “How can I have feelings for a man I barely know?”

He watched her for a moment longer before nodding—seemingly satisfied with her reply.

“Hell with it, at this point, I’m too horny to fucking care. Just remember that this doesn’t mean anything and we’ll be fine. Now... unbutton my shirt,” he said, his authoritative voice sent a thrill down her spine and she hastened to obey.

Her fingers shook slightly as she worked from top to bottom. She fumbled the job quite badly but he was patient, his hands combing through her hair while she revealed his taut, beautiful skin with excruciating slowness. It didn’t help that she was taking outrageous liberties while she was doing it. Her fingers and mouth, petting and stroking and kissing—evenbiting—every inch of smooth skin she bared.

She moaned when she reached the last button, and pushed the two halves of his shirt apart to stare in wonder at the treasure she’d just uncovered. A hard, broad chest, roughened with a silky black hair over magnificently sculpted pecs. The hair narrowed to a trail that ribboned down his torso between those washboard abs and disappeared into the waistband of his pants.

He shrugged out of the hopelessly wrinkled shirt and tossed it aside, before pushing himself up on his knees until his crotch was in her face. Fern swallowed, and licked her lips, as she stared at the intimidating bulge straining at the fly of his navy-blue trousers.

He placed a hand at the top of her head, and another below her chin and once again tilted her head back to meet his eyes. She had to lean back a bit to see past the jutting swell of his groin.

“Handle with care, princess,” he warned. “My cock isn’t inthe mood for any of the touchy feely shit you just did with my chest and abs.”

She moaned and licked her lips at the thought of uncovering the length that—before now—she’d only held and stroked but never actually seen.

He tightened his grip slightly on her jaw, not enough to hurt her—she trusted that he would never physically harm her—but just enough to draw her attention away from his crotch.

“Understand, Fern?”

“Y-yes?”

“What do you understand?” Amusement was laced through the words.

“I can take it out?” Her voice shook with excitement.

“Yes and…?”

“I can touch it?” Now she sounded hopeful.

There was long silence and she lifted her eyes, again, afraid she’d misinterpreted.

“Do youwantto touch it?”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed.

“What else do you want to do with it?” His voice sounded only mildly curious, but she could hear the faint tremor in it, and knew he wasn’t as unaffected as he sounded.

“Kiss it?”

“Yes and…?” Now he sounded breathless.

She nodded, before drawing her top lip into her mouth and staring up at him without bothering to disguise her hunger before continuing, “Lick it…suckit.”

His hips gave an involuntary jerk toward her, and her mouth ran dry.

“Fucken hell,” he breathed, his voice an awed whisper. “Where the fuck didyoucome from, little temptress? Uh… take it out. None of that other stuff. Not this time.”

His hand at her jaw had softened and was stroking her face with tender affection.

---