Page 27 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“Well, I’m distraction-free right now,” he says, and waits patiently.

But I don’t make him wait long. I make quick work of his shirt, marveling at his broad chest and tracing my fingers over his firm pecs, his toned arms.

Even though he’s no longer playing, the man has an athlete’s body, and he’s not justfirm. He’s rock-hard, with strong muscles and carved abs. He’s fantastic to touch.

We shift around, and I unbutton his jeans. Then he kicks them off the rest of the way, and I draw a sharp breath when I see the outline in his boxer briefs.

“Maybe I’ve been a very good girl after all,” I murmur in appreciation.

“Is that so?”

I reach out, pressing a hand to his erection. His eyes shut, and he groans as I stroke him.

I don’t need a man to be huge. I don’t have visions of giant sugarplum cocks dancing in my head.

But I don’t have to peek inside Vaughn’s pants to know I like this present. I like it a lot.

I remove his briefs, biting my lip as I stroke him. “This is the kind of surprise I enjoy.”

He chuckles. “Glad I could deliver for you.”

“Did I say you’d delivered yet?” I tease him.

His eyes snap open, and in a flash, he flips me to my back, pins my wrists, and stares hotly at me. “And for that, you’re going to get extra special attention.”

“You were planning to hold back before?”

His eyes narrow. “You were always getting the full treatment. But now I think you need extra orgasms for that sassy attitude.”

“I can be sassier. I can bring the sarcasm if it brings me Os.”

“And Os I will deliver.” Then he silences me with a kiss—a deep, sweet kiss that makes my toes curl. Moving down my body, he strips me as he goes, taking off my bra and lavishing attention on my breasts, making me moan as I curl my hands in his hair.

Then he makes me gasp and cry out when he slides off my panties, spreads my legs, and kisses me where I’m aching for him.

My hips shoot off the bed, and I’m already saying his name.

It’s that good.

He’s that attentive.

He seems to revel in licking me, tasting me. Inhavingme like dessert. Because that’s how he goes down on me—as if I’m the sweetest thing he’s had in ages. His tongue is magic. His lips send sparks of pleasure all over my body. I grab at the sheets. I grab at his hair. I moan and groan in bliss.

“So good,” he murmurs as he consumes me. “You taste so fucking good, Quinn.”

His words, the way he growls them—that’s all I need.

Desire coils in me, tightening, and then I’m calling out his name as pleasure obliterates my senses and I’m nothing but white-hot bliss.

Seconds later, he crawls over me, his lips hooked in a crooked grin. “You were saying?”

I grin. Wickedly. “Let’s see if I’m clear on how this works. If I sass you again, I get more orgasms?”

“Sure,” he replies. “Think of it as a special delivery.”

“I do like extra presents.”

Laughing, he rolls his eyes. “Quinn Summers, you are absolutely fucking awesome in every way.”

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