Trouble With Harry by Myla Jackson

shoving his cock deep inside her.
    He dragged the lacy bikini over her hips and down her thighs. “You’re beautiful, Edie. You’re skin is so pure and white.”
    Like a freakin’ ghost, she wanted to say, but at this point, she wasn’t going to argue. She chose to keep her mouth shut in hopes he’d continue on with his lesson on sex.
    “Your freckles are like little sprinkles of rich spice, begging to be tasted.” He touched his tongue to the inside of her thigh and trailed it upward.
    With the care of a master sculptor, he eased his hand over her hips, across her belly and down to part the folds of her labia exposing her to his view. Then he blew a tight stream of air over her pulsing clit.
    “I can’t stand it anymore.” Edie widened her legs and laced her hands through Harry’s ebony hair. “I want you.”
    “And I want you.” Harry licked her.
    Raw bursts of electricity flicked through Edie’s nervous system and she moaned louder. “Oh, Harry, you’re killing me.”
    “I want you, Edie, because you’re beautiful, sexy and smart.” He flicked her clitoris repeatedly with the tight tip of his tongue.
    Edie rode high on a wave of desire, Harry’s words a mere glimmer on the edge of her consciousness. “Ohmigod, Harry. This feels like heaven.” She burst over the edge, her thoughts tumbling like the flecks of colorful confetti in a kaleidoscope.
    He kept her there by laving her over and over until the pleasure was almost painful. Then he rose to his feet.
    Edie collapsed against him, gasping for air and a return to this galaxy.
    Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, then he tipped her chin and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.
    The taste of her on his lips reminded Edie of the wonder of his ministrations. She ran her hands over his chest and realized he’d never shed a stitch of clothing. Here she was in nothing but an open shirt and bra, and Harry was completely dressed. For a moment she felt deliciously naughty. Then she felt embarrassed and inadequate.
    Wasn’t she supposed to have undressed him? She slid her hands down over his chest, across his flat stomach to the metal button of his jeans.
    There, his hand stopped hers. “You don’t have to.”
    “But I want to please you like you pleased me.” That he’d stopped her, took the wind out of her sails, the confidence out of her actions, but she forged on, increasing pressure against the rivet. With a huff of frustration, she struggled against the rivet, not quite able to undo the damned thing.
    With a kiss to the top of her head, Harry grabbed her wrists. “I don’t think we should do this. You’ll be sore from earlier.”
    “But—” Edie stared up into his face. Then she snapped her hands away from his jeans, suddenly feeling like a gawky teenager on her first date. All her misgivings returned.
    Was this his way of telling her he wasn’t that interested in what she had to offer? All Edie’s doubts raced back in place. Harry didn’t want her. She wasn’t desirable enough. Hell, he was a man. Wouldn’t all men take any screw they could get, even if he had to bag her head so he didn’t have to stare into an ugly face? Maybe that was it. She needed to be bagged.
    Dropping her chin to her chest, she backed away clasping her hands together. “It’s okay, besides, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep…work and all…you know.”
    “Edie…” Harry reached out to her but she evaded his hands and darted for the doorway.
    “No really, I’m exhausted. But let me get you a pillow and blanket.” She dashed into her bedroom, snatched a pillow from her bed, a blanket from the closet shelf and ran back into the living room. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
    Before Harry could say anything, she’d closed the door between her bedroom and the living room. Not that a solid wood door would provide enough separation between her and Harry—not when he permeated every one of her waking