Page 187 of Can't Always Get What You Want

Our mouths crash together like magnets—hungry, a little desperate, and full of that adrenaline you get when you know you’re about to do something really, really sexy.

Nova tastes like cinnamon gum and sin, and she kisses like she means to ruin me.

My hands slip under the hem of her shirt, fingers skimming warm skin, and her little sigh against my mouth just about does me in.

She shifts against me, legs bracketing my hips as she leans back on the counter and tugs me closer. My hands cup her thighs, thumbs brushing higher. Her fingers wind into my hair and tug.

“Oh shit,” I mutter against her jaw, kissing down her throat.

“God, I love your hands. They’re so rough.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

Nova takes one and places it on her tit with a moan. “Yes—but you know what I’d like evenbetter?”

I am all ears.“What?”

“Your dick in my mouth.”

My cock goes rock-hard in my jeans like it’s spring-loaded, and I immediately thank whatever deity is responsible for blessing me with this woman. Nova fucking Montagalo—beautiful, wicked-smart, is completely obsessed with me.

And I her.

God we’re lucky.

I step back enough for her to slide off the counter, her hands already going for the button of my fly. There’s a gleam in her eyes that says she means business—the kind of business that involves tongue and

No.

Gag.

Reflex.

The woman of my absolute fucking dreams.

Her hands slide beneath my shirt, palms dragging up my ribs in slow, lazy strokes that make my skin tighten. She presses closer, and I feel the soft swell of her body against mine.

“I’m really glad you’re here, babe.” Her nails drag over my pelvis as she lowers to her knees…

“Yeah?” I brush a strand of hair from her face, my hands trembling from the sheer overload of wanting her. “You glad I’m here because I plan on walking around shirtless—or because I’m going to bring you coffee in bed every morning?”

She nods slowly. “I want you to feel at home.”

Good.

Yes.

I feel so, so welcome here…

Her deft fingers pull at my jeans, parting my zipper, reaching into my boxers to release my?—

Ding-dong.

We both freeze.

“Motherfucker,” I groan, forehead thudding against the cabinet. “Tell me that’s not who I think it is.”

Nova groans and drops her forehead dramatically against my stomach.

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