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As much as Bobby knew she wanted control, he needed to feel her beneath him. He settled her on the mattress, and went down on top of her, urging her legs apart as he pressed between them. For tonight, she was his.

Clarity wrenched through him before he pressed his erection to the V of her body where wet heat enveloped him in pure bliss. He sucked in a breath. “Please tell me you’re still on the pill,” he said, willing himself to move, but unable to find the will. “Because I left the condoms I bought in the car.”

“You bought condoms?” she asked. “Assuming we would—”

He kissed her. “Hoping.”

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered.

Her admission hit him with a hard dose of bittersweet emotion. Bobby swallowed a lump the size of Texas. Part of him screamed with the reality of her being on the pill to be with other men. Of course, he knew this, expected it. He’d left. He’d handed her over. He’d been with other women. But none who touched him as Jen had, still did. And he was damn lucky no other man had married her and made babies. That no other man had crossed the lines of intimacy he’d shared with her.

And so he kissed her, a long sweep of his tongue drawing hers into action. Wildness unleashed in him, a fierce need to make her his—a fierce demand that she was his, no matter how false that statement, no matter how untrue it might be.

His hand traveled her rib cage, her breasts. He pinched her nipples, tugged and tweaked, feeling her arch against him, her thighs clenching as she tried to pull his cock deep into the wet heat of her body. Silently begging him to enter her. And how he wanted inside her, but he also wanted this to last. Bobby tore his mouth from hers, maneuvering so that he lay beside her, and then angling her forward, intending to put her on her stomach.

“Oh, no,” she said. “You. On your back. I told you. I’m in charge.”

“Me, doing anything and everything to please you,” he said, his hand sliding down her hip, lips nuzzling her neck, teeth nipping her earlobe. “If that’s not control, I don’t know what is.” He brushed her hair aside, kissing her neck, urging her to her stomach. He smiled against her skin. “You can still tell me exactly where you want me.” His lips brushed her skin again. “Exactly what you need.”

And what he needed—was her.

8

JENNIFER DIDN’T BUY the “pleasure was control” bit Bobby gave her, no matter how tempting lying down and just letting Bobby please her might be. And Bobby could please her. She had no doubt. But she wanted him on her terms. That was what this night was about; that was how it had started and that was how it would end. Besides, exploring every delectable inch of his hotness wasn’t something she planned to miss. And he was hot, hotter than when he’d left—all man, all grown up, in all the right places. And she couldn’t do that exploring on her stomach.

Rotating around to face Bobby, both of them on their sides, Jennifer slid her hip under the jutted thickness of his erection as she urged him to his back. “I’m on top,” she insisted, reaching down to stroke his cock, sliding her fingers onto the sleek proof of just how ready he was for her. Her lips settled a breath from his. “Take it or leave it.”

He tugged her close, molding her to hard muscle. Their breath mingled, warm and tempting. “I’ll take you any way I can get you,” he said, his lips brushing hers, the soft caress sliding along every nerve ending she owned.

Barely containing a shiver, she whispered, “Good.” Then more forcefully, she ordered, “Now. On your back. Hands behind your head. You touch when I say you touch.”

He did as she said, cock standing up, engorged, inviting her to climb on top, to finally feel him inside her again. Instead, she scooted close to his side, flattening her hand on his abdomen, the ripples of hard muscle flexing beneath her fingers. Desire welled inside her.

Stretched out, he was six foot three inches of long, hard male, waiting for her next move. “What should I do first?” she queried mischievously, sitting up and running a hand over one powerful thigh.

“I’ll be happy to offer suggestions,” he said, his voice deep, raspy, his eyes raking over her nipples. They puckered instantly, the reaction spreading through her body and pooling heat between her thighs.

“I bet you can,” she said, her palm traveling up his hip, over his pelvis, teasing him with how close she was to the jut of his erection. “Like taking you in my mouth, I bet.” She knew how much talking turned him on. It did her, too.


Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Texas Hotzone Romance