Page 81 of Silver-Tongued Devil
That is, until Dakota sighed and shifted position one too many times, managing to rub up against him once again while she did it. He put his hand on her thigh, and the dress rode up a little more, and…
Enough was enough. He gave her a shove. “Come on, wild thing. Time for me to get to bed.”
“Oh. Sure.” She got to her feet, flashing a whole lot more leg, and he wondered how the sight of a woman’s skirt sliding up her thigh could be so damn sexy.
“Night, Dad,” she said, leaning over to give Russell a kiss, which showed Blake a little more.
“Night,” Russell said, his eyes on the screen. “Now go on. Count’s three and two.”
Blake stopped at the bathroom and said, “Ten minutes. I need a shower. And, darlin’, I don’t want to be telling you what to do, being as how you hate it and all, but seems I just can’t help it. You’d better be in that bed when I get there, and you get bonus points if there’s nothing underneath that little dress.”
“Bonus points?” she asked, her hand on her hip, frowning at him from behind those hot-librarian glasses. “Do you give out the points? And do you get to order me around?”
He grinned, because that was just what she did to him. And then he gave her a hard little slap on the butt that felt too good, watched her jump, said, “Oh, yeah. I do. Ten minutes,” and shut the bathroom door.
He took a pill first off, because he didn’t want to be thinking about pain, and then he took a shower. Jennifer hadn’t packed his razor, so Dakota was going to get a little beard burn tonight, but he was guessing she might not hate that, either.
When he opened the door of the bedroom, she was there. Glasses off, hair loose, and under the covers. Her cheek was resting on her folded hands, her eyes on the door. And when he shut it, she pushed the covers back, walked across the bed on her knees to him, and said, “I think you might need a little help tonight. Being incapacitated and all.”
“Uh… sure,” he said. “Help would be good.”
She smiled, slow and wicked, and his heart was already starting to beat harder, even before she got her hands under his T-shirt and pulled it up his body, touching him more than was strictly necessary along the way. She got it to his shoulders, then said, “On the other hand… you can probably take it from there.” She was stroking her palms over his chest, down his sides, and leaning forward and beginning to kiss his chest while he wrenched his shirt over his head in one big hurry.
Soft, feathery kisses, soft female hands lighting him up everywhere they touched, and then she was licking over his nipple and closing in on it, and he went all the way to hard, just like that.
He said, “Ah…” and then had to suck in a breath, because she was going to work on him for real with hands and tongue and teeth. “I have some… jeans on, too. Got a… bad knee.”
“Mm,” she said, licking down his midsection, then back up again to his chest, like he was her ice-cream cone and she was going to eat him up. “You taste too good, though. You might have to wait awhile.”
“Dakota…” he groaned. “No. I need it… ah… faster.”
She didn’t even answer. “Standing up’s good for you. I noticed that.”
She was on her feet, then, pushing him against the wall. She wasn’t going to have it all her own way, though, whatever she thought. He had his hands in that soft black material and was pulling her nightgown right up, and he was enjoying what was under it a whole lot.
“Baby,” he said with a sigh, “you have got the prettiest body.”
Points for her. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Just sweet curves and soft skin, and once he had her nightgown off, he had his hands on all of it.
“Not your turn,” she whispered against his neck before she bit him. “Mine.” Her hands were still stroking, but they were moving right down his body, and she was dropping to her knees.
His heart was knocking against his chest wall, and all he wanted was whatever would come next. But he wanted to see her, too. He wanted to see herbad.
That was when he realized that she had a mirror on the back of her door, and that all he had to do was turn his head.
Holy hell. There they both were, and if he’d thought she’d look good on her knees? His imagination hadn’t been nearly good enough.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Oh, hell, yeah.” He wrapped his hands in her hair and watched himself do it. And then he watched her unbuckle his belt and unbutton his Levi’s.
His mouth was already dry, because she was going so slowly. Too slowly. She looked up at him, saw where he was looking, and turned her head herself.
“Oh,” she said. “You like to watch?”
“Oh, yeah, baby.” He barely knew what he was saying, not with her inching his zipper down. She had her hands on his waist, underneath the elastic of his briefs, and was kissing him just above them, her tongue licking into his navel, then sliding down. And still, she wasn’t quite there.
By the time she finally got her palms down into his briefs and started easing them over his hips, he was breathing hard. And when she was on her hands and knees pulling everything gently over his feet, being so careful of his knee… well, he was grateful, but he was also looking at her in the mirror, and… damn. Dakota’s ass…
“Darlin’,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse, as she got him free of his clothes, “just stay like that one second. Just let me look for one minute.”
