Page 153 of One Good Crash
But that finger happened to be attached to the hottest guy I'd ever met. And more than that, it was a guy I loved, a guy I'd been fantasizing about for weeks.
He gave the string a playful tug. "Out of town."
So Jaden wasn't even here?That was good.Reallygood. With growing excitement, I asked, "What about your cleaning people?"
"Came yesterday."
My breath was growing more unsteady with every passing moment. "Does anyone else have a key? To the house, I mean?"
"Nope."
"Are you sure?"
"Trust me." His gaze smoldered into mine. "No one – and I meanno one– is gonna look at you, but me."
Oh, boy.He was looking at menow, and I was looking athim. My gaze dipped lower and stopped at the proof of his arousal. Earlier, his swimsuit had been on the loose side.
It wasn't loose now.
In fact, it looked way too small to contain him. Like someone in a trance, I reached out and ran my hand over the massive bulge. My breath caught when it pulsed beneath my touch. He was so incredibly hard, and already, I could myself growing hot and wet under the cool fabric of my bikini bottoms.
Suddenly, upstairs seemed too far away.
He leaned his head close to mine. "Say yes."
Already, I was almost too breathless to speak. "Yes."
A million times yes.
Chapter 62
His voice was low in my ear. "That's my girl."
Iwashis girl. Probably, I'd been his right from the start, when I'd first seen him on that darkened street.
Funny, too. I wasn't one to believe in immediate connections, in love at first sight, or whatever else that people used to justify all kinds of crazy decisions.
But this didn't feel crazy. Or maybe it was just the right kind of crazy.
I loved him.
And he loved me, too.
Even without the words, I would've known. Already, I'd seen it in his eyes and felt it in his touch – his hand on mine, his finger tracing the contours of my face, his arms pulling me close as he kissed me on the sidewalk.
But all of that – the hand-holding, the kissing, everything – it was all a wonderful a prelude to this, the thing that I'd been craving for way too long.
Now, under the string of my bikini, his finger was inching higher, heading toward my collar bone. I stifled a whimper of frustration. It was going in the wrong direction. I wanted him to go lower, eventuallymuchlower. Over his swimsuit, my hand was still on his erection, and I gave it a squeeze of pure longing.
His swimsuit was damp from our time in the pool, and yet, even through the cool fabric, I could feel his heat raging underneath. He was so hard. And I was so wet – and not with pool water either.
Good Lord. How could I be so ready so soon?
And why wasn't his finger heading lower?My nipple was aching for his touch. Other places were aching, too.
Soon, the answer to my silent question became stupidly obvious.
Of course.
