Heavy Issues by Elle Aycart Page A

the concession-offering type by far, especially where women and sex were concerned. She’d better learn that fast.
    He kissed her, hard but short.
    “Can’t wait to have you,” he said as he stripped her of her pants. Wow, her underpants were also…how she’d called it? Vintage. They looked to him more like well-preserved, cute granny panties from the fifties. Damn sexy too, all that stiff lace hugging her luscious curves. Pity he wasn’t in the right mind to appreciate them. Another day he’d give them the attention they deserved. Not today. Today they were just pieces of clothing in his way.
    Clad only in her underwear, she shrank to cover herself.
    “There’s too much light here,” she whispered, warily eyeing first the lamp and then the big panel windows. “Too much exposure.”
    He narrowed his eyes at her. The dim glow from the lamp was mood lighting at best. And the big panel windows guarded their privacy perfectly. But that wasn’t truly the issue, was it?
    “Exposure?” He lifted her, and in two seconds flat he had her facing the full-length hallway mirror, him at her back. “No, sweetheart, this is exposure.” And he switched on the mirror’s powerful spotlights.
    Legs shaking and eyes wild, she tried to wrench away. “Cole—”
    He held her down, trapping her arms by her sides. “I don’t think so, babe.”
    It suddenly occurred to him that that was probably what had appealed to her about the fuck on the bike. No exposure whatsoever. He snorted inwardly. Hell, she’d thought that she could offer her ass to him and he’d just pull her pants down enough to fuck her? Which he would have in a heartbeat. But he would have wanted more after that. He was going to kiss and pet every inch of that body of hers, no two ways about it, and he’d do it without restrictions of any kind.
    Her chin dropped to her chest, her hair falling to her face.
    “I want all my senses involved while fucking you, sight included.”
    “I’d rather not,” she answered in a barely audible voice.
    “Why?” he asked, nuzzling her nape. “Don’t you want to watch me?”
    She choked out a shaky laugh, her face still hidden from him. “You, yeah. Me, no. Besides, you’re still dressed.”
    “And that’s how I’m going to fuck you this first time. Me fully clothed. You totally naked. Now stop hiding and look up,” he commanded. “You better give in, because I’m not going anywhere.”
    It took a while, but she complied. Her eyes were anxious, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Her lips swollen from his rough kisses.
    He couldn’t tear his gaze off her. “God, look at you. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
    He licked and nibbled the hollow under her ear, nuzzled her neck, flicking his tongue over the pulse point at the base. When he was fairly sure she wasn’t going to bolt, he let her arms go and trailed his hands over her curves, doing his damnedest to ignore his throbbing cock, which had swelled to monumental proportions. Fuck, he was going out of his mind.
    Unable to stop himself, he pulled at her hair, turning her face toward him, and took her mouth in a wet, hard caress. Totally forgetting he didn’t like the intimacy of kissing a woman, he mindlessly feasted on those luscious lips until she arched against him, whimpering. Little by little, Christy began melting again, becoming the willing kitty she’d been before. She still looked a bit unsure, but the pleasure seemed to override her inhibitions. Good. He may get off on macho tripping and playing it rough, but he wanted her one hundred percent in.
    “Get the Kevlar off, babe,” he whispered.
    “Kevlar?”
    “The death-trap bra. And the panties,” he said, watching her through the mirror.
    With shaky fingers, she began opening the front pins. Fuck, that was going to take forever.
    “I’m not the most patient man around. You’re going to have to start wearing something more accessible,” he said as his gaze held hers, tempted to just rip the