muttered, before taking another healthy bite and closing her eyes in delight.
“Better than sex?” he asked wickedly.
Her eyes shot open, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I don’t know why you do that,” she mumbled, looking down at her plate.
“Do what?”
“That. You take pleasure out of tormenting me. That’s why this would never work.” Alarmed that she might say too much, she shoved another forkful into her mouth, absently noting that he was almost done with his plate, and he’d taken twice as much food as her.
“Let’s finish eating, and then we’ll talk,” he said quietly.
She began to shake her head, but he held his hand up. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m tired of whatever game it is we’re playing. We’re gonna talk about it, even if I have to tie you down to the bed and keep you there until you’re willing.”
Heat suffused her body at the thought.
God forbid … or God willing.
“Fine,” she agreed curtly. “We’ll talk, but then it’s time for you to leave.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured vaguely, right before he reached over and kissed her stupid.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You know that if my brother ever finds out about this, you’re a dead man.”
It was late Saturday afternoon, and after an incredibly decadent breakfast, he’d managed to work himself into a game of Mario Kart (her weakness), more sex, and takeout. Open cartons littered the surface of her otherwise pristine glass coffee table as an old Eddie Murphy movie played on the TV. He’d maneuvered them onto the couch with her back pressed against his chest with both arms wrapped tightly around her, her head tucked under his chin as they both watched the images dance across the screen. Self-conscious, especially after the day’s indulgence, she’d been holding her breath shallowly to try and suck her stomach in until the not-so-cheery thought that her brother would kill Sean crossed her mind.
Without thinking, she blurted it out.
An arm with a light sprinkling of hair reached over her to grab the remote from amongst the cartons on the table. That move also gave him easy leverage to roll her underneath his body as his thumb deftly pressed pause.
More than a little mortified, she gave up trying to suck in and focused on willing away the color that surely accompanied the heat that took over her face. Despite their previous intimacy, she rolled her eyes heavenward, suddenly interested in the tiny, tawny fibers that covered the arm of her sofa.
She expected him to command her attention, so when he instead sharply nipped her bottom lip, she jerked her head forward with a glare.
Amused blue eyes, the color of the ocean, attractively crinkled at the corners as he raised a finger to trace her scowl. His other hand trailed lightly over the skin of her hand all the way up to her shoulder before repeating the same motion on her neck, over her chest, and around the curve of her breast.
“Every limb,” he whispered softly over her lips as he brushed his mouth against her own, “every inch of skin …”
By this time, his hand was torturously moving downward over the sensitive skin of her stomach, and she fought a soft moan as her hips instinctively arched towards him.
The tip of his tongue traced over the rim of her mouth, and everything else forgotten, she held her breath suspended, waiting for his next move.
“Every hair,” he murmured against her mouth, and his fingers dipped into her neatly trimmed curls. She made a pleading sound of frustration deep in her throat as he stilled against her mouth.
“He will rip apart,” Sean growled before spasmodically grabbing the sides of her waist, exactly in the places he knew she was ticklish.
Overly sensitized, aching, and caught completely unaware, she let out a little scream, and pushed from underneath him. They struggled for a brief moment, and he was about to let out a triumphant laugh when he felt her
“Better than sex?” he asked wickedly.
Her eyes shot open, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I don’t know why you do that,” she mumbled, looking down at her plate.
“Do what?”
“That. You take pleasure out of tormenting me. That’s why this would never work.” Alarmed that she might say too much, she shoved another forkful into her mouth, absently noting that he was almost done with his plate, and he’d taken twice as much food as her.
“Let’s finish eating, and then we’ll talk,” he said quietly.
She began to shake her head, but he held his hand up. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m tired of whatever game it is we’re playing. We’re gonna talk about it, even if I have to tie you down to the bed and keep you there until you’re willing.”
Heat suffused her body at the thought.
God forbid … or God willing.
“Fine,” she agreed curtly. “We’ll talk, but then it’s time for you to leave.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured vaguely, right before he reached over and kissed her stupid.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You know that if my brother ever finds out about this, you’re a dead man.”
It was late Saturday afternoon, and after an incredibly decadent breakfast, he’d managed to work himself into a game of Mario Kart (her weakness), more sex, and takeout. Open cartons littered the surface of her otherwise pristine glass coffee table as an old Eddie Murphy movie played on the TV. He’d maneuvered them onto the couch with her back pressed against his chest with both arms wrapped tightly around her, her head tucked under his chin as they both watched the images dance across the screen. Self-conscious, especially after the day’s indulgence, she’d been holding her breath shallowly to try and suck her stomach in until the not-so-cheery thought that her brother would kill Sean crossed her mind.
Without thinking, she blurted it out.
An arm with a light sprinkling of hair reached over her to grab the remote from amongst the cartons on the table. That move also gave him easy leverage to roll her underneath his body as his thumb deftly pressed pause.
More than a little mortified, she gave up trying to suck in and focused on willing away the color that surely accompanied the heat that took over her face. Despite their previous intimacy, she rolled her eyes heavenward, suddenly interested in the tiny, tawny fibers that covered the arm of her sofa.
She expected him to command her attention, so when he instead sharply nipped her bottom lip, she jerked her head forward with a glare.
Amused blue eyes, the color of the ocean, attractively crinkled at the corners as he raised a finger to trace her scowl. His other hand trailed lightly over the skin of her hand all the way up to her shoulder before repeating the same motion on her neck, over her chest, and around the curve of her breast.
“Every limb,” he whispered softly over her lips as he brushed his mouth against her own, “every inch of skin …”
By this time, his hand was torturously moving downward over the sensitive skin of her stomach, and she fought a soft moan as her hips instinctively arched towards him.
The tip of his tongue traced over the rim of her mouth, and everything else forgotten, she held her breath suspended, waiting for his next move.
“Every hair,” he murmured against her mouth, and his fingers dipped into her neatly trimmed curls. She made a pleading sound of frustration deep in her throat as he stilled against her mouth.
“He will rip apart,” Sean growled before spasmodically grabbing the sides of her waist, exactly in the places he knew she was ticklish.
Overly sensitized, aching, and caught completely unaware, she let out a little scream, and pushed from underneath him. They struggled for a brief moment, and he was about to let out a triumphant laugh when he felt her
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