Rand nods. “Last call on former lovers. Want to tell me about them so I can decide whether they belong on the list?”
I take another sip of my wine. Maybe I’ve had enough liquid courage to be bold. Maybe I’m just too aroused to care how I sound anymore, but I finally say what’s going through my head. “Do you really want to know about my exes to make a suspect list or because you want to know the kind of guy I’m into?”
He sends me a hot, direct stare. “What if I said both?”
“The few exes I have are all friends, but I don’t really have a type.” I lick my suddenly dry lips, loving the way his gaze follows the gesture. “Or I didn’t until you.”
Rand doesn’t respond right away. He just stares into my eyes, then down at my painted red lips. His breaths turn rougher. I blink back at him, willing him to say or do something.
I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I do right now.
“What are you thinking?” I whisper.
“Things that would probably scare the hell out of you.”
My heart skips a beat. “What do you mean?”
“I’m compiling a list of everything I’m dying to do to you. It’s long, detailed, and filthy.”
The flesh between my legs clenches. A whimper escapes my throat. “Please.”
He moves like lightning, plucking me from the bench and settling me astride his lap. The full cup of my wine sloshes over the rim and onto my white tank. The wine-soaked shirt sticks to my skin, and I don’t care. Neither does he.
I let the plastic cup fall from my grasp and wrap my arms around his neck. He grabs my nape and hauls me closer, branding my lips with his in a fiery kiss that sizzles every inch of my body.
Rand isn’t content. His fingers on my neck tighten as he slants his mouth and nudges mine open before lunging inside, deep and possessive. He masters me in that instant, and I know I’ll never crave another man’s kiss the way I will his.
It’s electrifying and terrifying—but there’s no going back.
Rand wraps his arms around my waist, clutching me tighter. When he’s eliminated every sliver of space between us, he barges into my mouth even deeper, somehow stealing more of my soul.
I can’t breathe and I can’t think—and I don’t care. I’ve never felt as alive as I do right this moment.
But I need more.
Another whimper escapes my throat as I writhe on his lap. There’s no way I can miss how solid and strong he is—and how thick and steely he feels between my legs as I work myself against his cock. My pussy aches. My clit burns. I’m on fire. My unsatisfied body cries out for every inch he’s got.
I tear my lips away. “What are you doing to me?”
“Everything you’ll let me,” he pants as his gaze falls to my tank. “Starting with sucking on those pretty fucking nipples.”
That’s all the warning I get before he lifts me to my knees, aligns my crests with his waiting mouth, then fastens on to one—cotton and all—drawing it deep, before sliding to the other, as if he can’t taste enough of me.
He sucks on my tank-clad tips long, strong, and deep. I feel him all the way between my legs. It’s like nothing I’ve ever imagined. We’re still fully clothed, and he’s barely had his hands on me for two minutes. My body is already weeping for the satisfaction I’m convinced only he can give me.
“Rand.” I cling to his shoulders, tossing my head back and arching to offer him my breasts.
“That’s a good girl, honey. Give them to me.” He switches to the other, feasting until I’m damn near out of my mind. Then he eases back with a teasing lick. “Get rid of the shirt and show me what’s mine.”
Maybe I should worry about his possessive demand. But I’m greedy. I’m needy. It only works me up more.
I drop one strap of the tank, then the other, and let the garment slither down to my waist. My bare breasts bob in his face, inches from his lips. He stares at them, then looks up at me.
A wide, suggestive smile beams across his face as he cups my flesh and leans in. “Fuck yes.”
His hot exhalation spreads across my skin, making me shudder. But that’s nothing compared to the furnace of his mouth enveloping my nipple and dragging it into its hot depths.
Fresh desire scalds my veins. The lust I’ve been trying not to give in to since the moment I laid eyes on him overtakes my good sense. I don’t care that there are revelers just down the shore who might hear us. I don’t care that people are boating across the lake who might see us. I can’t think beyond Rand and his arms banded tightly around me while we’re sheltered in the cocoon of our closeness by the giant branches and swaying leaves of the stately oaks. We’re wrapped together in our own world, in this moment seemingly made just for the two of us.