Page 12 of The Treasure Hunt Hookup

“Oh, yes we do.”

She grabs the zipper and yanks. The fabric gives way, and suddenly, her breasts spill out of the spandex, lush and round and cased in maroon silk.

I lose the power of speech.

She grins. “I knew this bra was worth it,” she crows, pulling the fabric down and wriggling her arms free, too. “I almost fainted at the cost, but Mary-Alice said I needed to dress for the life I wanted. In other words … if I want to manifest getting my clothes torn off, there needs to be something worth seeing underneath.”

In the back of my mind, I dimly wonder why the hell this wanton sex goddess would need to manifest getting laid, but right now I have more pressing things to do.

Like help her tug the rest of the spandex over her hips and down her legs, until finally the damn thing is off, and she’s laying there before me in her underwear, looking like one of those pre-Raphaelite paintings, all lush curves and soft edges.

A pre-Raphaelite painting that could double as the cover of Maxim magazine.

Dear God.

I’m on my knees in front of her, which feels pretty apt right now. I could worship this woman’s body for years, but I’ll start with a single night.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I breathe, trying to memorize this scene.

Lola flushes, and then I can’t hold back any more. I lean in, hungrily trailing my mouth over her breasts as my hands claim the rest of her body. It’s incredible, and I can’t get enough: stroking her hips, teasing her nipples through the silk until they’re taut and she’s gripping my hair tightly, moaning all over again.

I move lower, carefully pushing her horizontal and parting her thighs. Lola gasps as the scruff of my two-day stubble scratches the inside of her thigh. I stroke my thumb across her panties, feeling her shudder, and dammit, they’re already damp.

“Reeve?” Lola’s voice is high pitched and breathy, and I lift my head, still stroking slow circles over the apex of her thighs. “In case you’re one of those guys who asks permission …” she starts, “You know, to make sure I’m enthusiastically consenting before you … well, before …”

“This?” I press against her. She flushes.

“The answer is yes.” Lola blurts, dropping her thighs wider for emphasis. “My answer is one hundred percent, abso-fucking-lutely yes. Enthusiastic enough for you?”

Dear god,yes.

I yank her panties down, grip her thighs, and bury myself face-first between her legs.

“Ohhh…” Lola arches up with a moan as my tongue finds her clit and I start to lick, but I don’t stop, I don’t pause for fucking breath, I just swirl my tongue faster, and hold on for dear life.

Goddamn.

This incredible woman has just given me an all-access pass to make her moan, and I can’t think of a greater privilege.

Or a greater pleasure. Because fuck, she’s incredible, already whimpering and writhing under my eager mouth; a sharp hand gripping my hair as she arches up for more.

And I give it to her. Lapping and teasing, working her tight clit with my tongue as I ease one finger inside her, and then another. She moans again, a wild, desperate sound, and I flex, rubbing her inner walls in time with my licks.

“Reeve …” her voice is gasping and needy, and I can feel her body tighten. “Oh my God,Reeve!”

Is this heaven? It might be. Fuck. Feeling her body tighten and gasp, hearing those desperate moans … I’ve never known a satisfaction like this. Sure, I always want my partners to have a good time, but this? This is another level; something hot and primal driving me on, needing to take her over the edge.

To make it so good, it’s more than just a fantasy to her.

Soon, too soon, she’s shaking, body strung tight as a bow. I almost want to pause, make it last, take all night, but she’s begging me softly, and I couldn’t deny her if I tried.

I curl my fingers higher, rubbing just right, and take her over the brink. She cries out, her body pulsing in pleasure as her orgasm sweeps through her.

When I finally lift my head, she’s laying there gasping, flushed; wig slipping to reveal a flash of brunette hair beneath.

“Oh my God,” Lola sounds a burst of breathless laughter. “Whatwasthat?”

I pull myself up and lay beside her on the chaise.Damn. This must be why men climb Everest, and try to break world records. To feel this invincible. Like a goddamn conquering hero.

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