Page 78 of Extreme Danger

“Your brother’s very protective of you,” he observed.

Her hands were still clamped over her cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He’s really excitable. I shouldn’t have given you the phone.”

“It’s OK,” Nick said. “I kind of liked him, actually.”

She dropped her hands into her lap, incredulous. “Youwhat?”

“He gives a shit,” Nick said. “I like that quality in a person. My only problem is, I’m not sure whether I promised to marry you, or keep my hands off you. And if I get it wrong, he’ll kick my ass.”

She dissolved into giggles, tears flashing out of her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said breathlessly. “I won’t hold you to either one.”

“Have you got any more family that I should be looking over my shoulder for?” he asked. “Dad with a shotgun? Mom with an Uzi?”

“Just a sister. Carrie’s nineteen. Josh is twenty,” she confessed. “Our parents died a long time ago. I raised the two of them myself.”

He blew out a long breath. “Wow. That’s heavy.”

“Yeah, it was, pretty much.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “Well. I guess that kind of killed the moment, huh?”

Shit, shit, shit. Mayday. Going down.“Depends,” he said, trying to maintain a deadpan expression in the face of his own lust. He grabbed her small hand, pulled it down and wrapped those soft, smooth fingers around his turgid cock. “Personally, I think the moment’s alive and well. In fact, this part of me never even noticed the interruption.”

She stared down at him, stroking and exploring with those light, feathery fingers till he thought he would scream. “I see,” she whispered.

“If I’m going to get my ass kicked, I might as well make it count, right?” He retrieved the condom from where it had fallen on the rug, and put it into her other hand. Crossing his fingers. Please.Please.

She shook with a burst of silent giggles, and finished ripping the condom open and pulling it out one-handed. It took her for-fucking-ever to pry the thing out and fumble it over his dick. He was just about to end the ticklish torture, yank it out of her hands and get it on himself when she finally rolled the lubricated latex slowly up the length of his shaft, with one long, tight, fantastic squeezing stroke.

“It looks awfully snug,” she commented, sounding worried.

“It’s great,” he said, his voice strangled. “Please. Do that again.”

She made that soft little laughing sound, and obliged him, petting and pulling and milking his cock until he was gasping for air and clutching her, his arms, that breathy, happy sound. He wanted to hear more of it. It made him feel…he didn’t even have a word for it. He didn’t even have a place for the feeling, but it spurred him to grab her and kiss her again.

That awkward hand job was the most erotic sensation he’d ever felt. He’d got lucky, damn lucky. A soft, fragrant, laughing woman filling his arms, her soft lips opening, her shy tongue retreating before his, and then slowly responding. Becca was sweet beyond belief.

He cupped her head and deepened the kiss till he was practically drowning in her—and knocked those weird black glasses askew. Oops.

She straightened them, giggling helplessly. “I can’t believe I forgot I still had these on.”

“Leave them,” he suggested, starting on the buttons at her neck.

“But they’re hideous,” she protested.

He stopped her hand as she was about to pry them off. “It’s a look,” he explained. “It’s a classic porn motif. The formerly frigid sex bomb secretary, right after her sexual awakening, but before she thinks to ditch the specs and lose the tight bun. Add virginal lingerie and you have yourself a fantasy.”

“Oh, please. Spare me.” She yanked the glasses off and flung them onto the coffee table. “Men are such pigs.”

“Oh, absolutely,” he agreed, lifting the huge, tentlike flannel thing off her. Finally naked. As stunning as ever. No. More, even.

He held out the nightgown. “Get up,” he said hoarsely. “Let me put this on the couch, under you.”

She blinked at him, looking dazed and confused. “Huh?”

“For the wet spot.” He tugged her to her feet and spread the thing out deftly beneath her. He tossed her back down on top of it so that she bounced, her beautiful, pink-tipped tits jiggling seductively.

He gripped her hips and slid her ass back down to the edge of the couch. “You’re dripping pussy juice like a ripe peach,” he muttered. “I can’t get enough of it. Except that if I don’t fuck you now, I think I’m going to die.”

She smiled at him, biting her lip with that uncertain look, but she opened for him like a flower as he folded her legs high and wide, that wet pink pussy open to him. Offered to him.

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