Bitch.
She shook her head, her own lips twitching, as Riley and Myra got into a conversation with Jake, clearly checking him out. She sat and watched in bemusement as Jake laughed and flirted a little with her friends, evading their unsubtle questions with quick humor. Much as she’d been annoyed at the interruption, something hot and soft expanded in her as Jake charmed her friends into giggles and fluttering eyelashes.
“We should play poker,” Myra suggested eventually.
Riley groaned. She set her empty wine glass on the coffee table and stood. “No,” she said firmly to Myra. “Enough. We’re going.”
Myra didn’t even protest as she stood too, still smiling. “All right, all right,” she grumbled but Shelby saw the twinkle in her eyes. “Shelby, you put that shirt back on the right way, okay?”
Oh geez, she’d totally forgotten about that. She pursed her lips and shot Myra a look that made her laugh. She followed the girls to the door.
“I like him,” Myra whispered to her. “But be careful, okay?”
Shelby pursed her lips and looked back and forth between her two friends, then nodded and smiled reluctantly. She locked the door behind them and returned to the living room.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she slid down onto the couch beside Jake again.
“That’s okay.” His smile stole her breath. “I was annoyed at first, but they were just concerned about you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“They were fun to talk to,” he murmured and hooked his index finger into the neckline of her T-shirt. He quirked an eyebrow. “Like she said, we really need to fix this shirt.”
As he slowly lifted the T-shirt over her head for the second time that night, cool air brushed over her nipples and tightened them into sharp points. She longed to feel his hands on her again, like he had earlier. He’d teased her and heated her up into a frenzy of need for him. That lust and heat was banked deep inside her, glowing coals of desire, and it wouldn’t take much for him to stir that up into a roaring inferno again.
He took the T-shirt and carefully turned it right side out, then made as if to put it back on her. She bit her lip and gazed up at him through her lashes and he laughed softly.
“I’m just kidding,” he said. “You’re not getting this back on.” He tossed it behind his shoulder. “In fact, we need to get those pants off you again.”
He had her on her back on the couch and naked in seconds, leaning over her, kissing her, opening his mouth wider over hers, sucking her tongue inside his mouth. He moved between her legs and lifted one thigh, his fingers lingering behind her knee and sending shivers of delight cascading over her.
His other hand speared into her hair and held her head as he kissed her again and again, the weight of his body heavy on hers, his mouth stealing her breath. The hand on her leg slid down the side of her thigh and under her butt, cupping her, lifting her to him, and she moved along with him, needing that pressure, seeking the hardness of his erection.
They’d sat there practically quivering with frustrated lust the entire time her friends had been there and now it all exploded into flames, burning her up, every nerve ending alight, her skin on fire. Heat grew and swelled in her and she kissed him back as avidly as he kissed her, opening for him, tasting his tongue, nipping his bottom lip.
Her hands moved over his back and shoulders and she wanted him naked, too. She tugged ineffectually at his T-shirt, trying to find bare skin, until he finally sat up and reached behind his back and dragged the shirt over his head.
She lay there gazing up at him, again wonderstruck at the beauty of his body, all sculpted muscle and smooth, tanned skin. He was perfect, male perfection, heat practically shimmering off him. She wet her bottom lip with her tongue and saw his eyes darken as he watched her, his lips parted.
Then his gaze drifted from her mouth down over her breasts, her nipples tightening and tingling, then lower to her stomach, and lower still. Her body tightened with anticipation. With gentle hands, he parted her thighs, shifted backwards on his knees, and then it was his shoulders pushing her thighs even farther apart and his breath on her pussy rather than just his gaze.
Oh lord, oh lord. She closed her eyes then opened them again, his dark head between her legs, and then his tongue licked her, one side, the other, long, slow swipes of exquisite pleasure. His lips closed over sensitive flesh and sucked gently, again one side and the other in soft, suckling kisses then little closed-mouth kisses until he reached her clit. She quivered, ripples starting in her pelvis, heat building, her insides squeezing, her hands going to his head, threading through silky hair.
He licked her clit at the same time as his finger slid into her. She cried out again, lifted against his mouth and his hand, that unbearable sweetness swelling, everything tightening inside her. She was going to come, oh god, and then his mouth closed over her clit in a long, electrifying pull. She shattered, colorful spots dancing behind closed eyelids, flames consuming her body and her fingers gripping his hair.
“Sweet, Shelby.” He rained more little kisses over her sensitive, swollen folds, her quivering inner thighs, her tummy, as he shifted back onto his knees. She tried to breathe, her arms now limp at her sides, dragged her eyes open to see his hands at the fly of his jeans, and with sexy efficient moves he had them undone and shoved down his hips. So hot. More heat swept over her.
Her gaze dropped to his erection, more male beauty, thick and heavy, ridged with veins, so hard. He paused and reached down to his jeans and she swallowed tightly, waiting, still pulsing from her orgasm, until he rose again, a condom package in his hands. After quickly gloving up, he fell over her, jeans still around his knees.
On his elbows, both hands in her hair, he held her head again and kissed her, thumbs near the corners of her mouth, his mouth hot and wet, and she tasted herself on his tongue. He throbbed against her and she lifted her knees, opening for him.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he whispered close to her ear. “Wet and hot.” He opened his mouth on the skin of her neck, just below her ear, and gently sucked. Shivers swept over her again and she tightened her thighs around him.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered back. “Please, now.”
“Oh baby.” He reached between them, nudged at her entrance, and then pushed into her with a thrilling, stretching burn of pleasure. Still sensitive, with his thick shaft filling her, she started tingling again, a swirl of sensation inside her, contracting around him. He groaned and kissed her again and she arched against him with a small cry into his mouth.
He felt good, so very good, in her, on top of her.
“So good, Shelby,” he muttered. “Hot and tight around me, and you taste so sweet. I loved tasting you like that, feeling you come in my mouth.”
His words inflamed her and she wasn’t sure if she’d even stopped coming from the first orgasm or if this was another one, but it swelled inside her and she burst into flaming pieces again as he moved in her, against her, his face pressed to hers.
He groaned her name, a long drawn-out word, his body going rigid against hers, pulsing in hard, heavy jolts. “Oh man,” he moaned long moments later. “I so wanted to do this again, after last weekend.”
“Me too,” she confessed, hands stroking his sleek back. She was pretty sure she’d never been so turned on, so hot for a guy, so instantly orgasmic. Holy crap. Not even with Mark. Funny how Mark seemed like such a pale, anemic memory. At the time, she’d thought sex with him was hot. She hadn’t even known the meaning of the word hot.
Now she did. Burning up, feverish, explosive. Hot, hot, hot. She smiled and Jake lifted his head to look down at her. She loved the gleam in his eyes, the quirk of his lips. And that made it even hotter—the fact that they could talk and laugh and have so much fun.