Crazy in Love by Kristin Miller

it as a ledge and propped her leg so she’d open up for him. And then, before she could protest, he pleasured her with his mouth until she cried out his name again and again. She tasted good. Better than good. The sweetest honey he’d ever had on his tongue.
    He needed more.
    “I want you inside me,” she said, dragging him up her body. “Tell me you have a condom.”
    “I do.” He kissed her neck and the gentle swoop of her jaw. He wouldn’t stop until he’d kissed every delicate inch of her. “Upstairs.”
    He ran upstairs, rummaged through his luggage, and pulled out a condom. As he ran back down, taking the narrow steps two at a time, he pocketed the lifesaver.
    Rachael was leaning against the counter in the exact position he’d left her. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were kissed pink, and she was buck naked, except for the robe that hung from her shoulders.
    Hurricane Turner had left a provocative wake.
    He charged through the kitchen, cupped her chin in his hands and crushed his mouth to hers. Groaning, he coiled his arms around her waist and lifted her off her feet. He kept his eyes closed as he fumbled his way out of the kitchen and into the dining room. He knew he’d reached the living room when he accidently kicked over one of his guitar cases.
    “You didn’t break something, did you?” she asked, giggling into a kiss.
    “Don’t know,” he said. “And don’t care.”
    Nearly tripping over another case, he tossed Rachael onto the couch. She landed with her robe splayed out behind her, a curtain of red against her pale skin. She smiled wide and nailed him with a sultry, come-and-get-me glance.
    Sexiest sight ever.
    He committed the image to memory and got busy stripping out of his clothes. He kicked off his boots and jeans and slid the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. In his frantic rush to be inside her, he’d forgotten the condom. He dug into his jeans pocket, tore through the wrapper and rolled it on.
    Seconds dragged by.
    Shaking with anticipation, Cole gripped her backside and slid her to the edge of the couch.
    They groaned in unison as their hips met. He stilled inside her, buried to the hilt.
    “Know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he said, as he slowly thrust in and out of her wetness. “Since you caught me in my towel.”
    She rested back onto the couch. Tilted her hips so his length would sink deeper into her heat. She was a hot glove of molten ecstasy. A perfect fit. Every muscle in his body clenched into a tight fist.
    “I wanted you that night, too,” she said.
    He stilled. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”
    The corner of her lips pulled up into a grin. “Get down here, you cocky sucker.”
    “Cock and suck in the same sentence?” He plunged deeper. “Music to my ears.”
    She rose up, grabbed him by the back of the neck and brought him down over her. As skin met sweet-smelling skin, their bodies rocked together in an undulating rhythm that drove him to the brink. And when her inner walls began to clench around his shaft in tiny little pulses, his muscles seized. She cried out his name, and sent him careening over the edge with her.
    As the surges waned, Cole stilled, though he didn’t want to roll off just yet.
    She consumed him. From the rosy-sweetness of her hair and warmth of her body, to the soft pitter-patter of her heart beating through her chest. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and her arms around his back.
    He never wanted the moment to end, which was a new notion for him.
    Normally, he’d start thinking of a way to get out without hurting the woman’s feelings. But not a single idea of the sort entered his head. They could stay here. Throw a blanket on the floor, light a fire and curl up in front of it until dawn. He felt relaxed and drained, his muscles spent. Not a single thought of how he’d botched the concert could worry him now.
    “I need to get up,” she said, patting his back.
    Wasn’t that normally his line?
    He rolled