Page 55 of Hot Shot

“Ah. I like that.”

My mind goes back to his suggestion…We have a hot little romp for a few weeks while I teach you Spanish and we throw an engagement party and then you leave for Spain and we say goodbye and everyone’s happy.

“Marco.”

“Mmm.”

“We need to . . . be clear about what’s happening here.”

He opens his mouth on the side of my neck and sucks gently. “I’m pretty clear . . .”

“Seriously.”

He pulls back and gives me a hot stare.

“I was starting to say, that night at the club, we shouldn’t have kissed, but then you made that all fly out of my head.”

One eyebrow arches with arrogant satisfaction.

“I know you said we could have a . . . a . . .”

“Hot romp?”

“Yes.” I take a quick breath in and out. My body is telling me to jump him and go for it, but my head is telling me to slow down because . . . because . . . why again? He’s right. I’m leaving. Even if things go south between us, it’ll be over and I’ll be gone, and by the time I get back it’ll all be forgotten.

I study his face—the blaze in his eyes, the sexy carved lines of his mouth, the strong, stubble-roughened jaw. He can kiss me into a coma, and those hands on my breasts have my hormones going wild. How good will it be if he touches me everywhere? “Let’s romp.”

12

CARRIE

Marco’s eyes go nearly black, and his eyelids droop. “Oh, baby. You just made Mr. Big very happy.”

I choke on a laugh and fall against him. “Mr. Big?”

“Yeah.” His hands sweep up my bare back and twist into my hair. “He’s been waiting impatiently. Like your hungry pussy.”

I moan at his dirty—and accurate—words, my hungry pussy clenching hard.

“So beautiful,” he says in a reverent tone, staring at my breasts again. “Goddamn, Carrie.”

I love that. Why it’s different from everyone else who compliments my looks, I don’t know. But he makes me feel . . . special. More than just an object to be admired.

I want to see him too. And touch him. So I reach for the buttons of his shirt. One by one, I open them and part the fabric. My mouth waters at the expanse of smooth, tanned skin, taut muscles, and tattoos I reveal. I know Navy SEALs have to be in top physical shape. Another small moan escapes my lips. “It’s too bad you’ve let yourself go since your SEAL days.”

His chuckle turns into a groan as I explore his ridged abs and pecs with my palms, tracing the swirls of black ink over his shoulder and biceps—the stylized Aztec sun and stars. He shrugs out of the shirt and a thrill runs through me right to my core at the sight of his naked torso, and not just the sight of it, but the heat emanating from him, the energy that flows from his body and ripples the air around us, that warm lime and cedar scent that teases my nostrils and makes me dizzy.

Giving in to the impulse, I lean forward and press my nose to his throat, breathing him in. “Dear God, you smell good.”

“Mmm. Thinking the same about you, babe.” He presses his nose to my hair. “Can’t wait to taste you . . . everywhere.”

A shudder ripples through my body as my greedy pussy anticipates his lips and tongue on me . . . everywhere . . . “I want to taste you, too.”

“This could take a while.”

“We’ve got all night.” I curve my hands over strong shoulders and squeeze as he dips his head to my breasts again and draws a nipple into his mouth. Liquid heat floods between my legs, and a ravenous ache throbs low inside me.

He sucks and scrapes his teeth over sensitive nipples until I’m drowning in sensation and delirious with want. His arms wrap around me, holding me as he leans me back and feasts on me.

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