“What’s the hurry, Sam? It’s Friday night and it’s still early enough. Maybe you could stick around, help me figure out how to keep my hands busy.” Our fingers brush, and she makes a soft, sexy bedroom sound that cups my balls and massages gently.
“I…I…”
“If you want to go, no problem,” I say causally, even though there is a storm of want roiling through me. “But you should know…” I pause, and wait to see if she takes the bait.
“Know what?”
“I’m not so sure you were right about the pie?”
“Not right about it. What do you mean?”
“I think there might something else in the running for the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth. But I’d have to taste it first to be sure.”
4
Sam
Ohmigod. Did he just say what I think he said? Or is my sexually frustrated body interpreting his words wrong. Flabbergasted, and unsure of what’s really going on here, I falter backward, but he slides his hand around my body and brings me close, close enough for me to feel the missile between his legs.
Alrighty then.
In a bold move, completely uncharacteristic of me, I move against him slightly, take measure of what he’s working with.
A growl catches in his throat and snaps me back to reality. I blink quickly, shake my head to get it on right. I look past his shoulders, toward the front hall. I should go, get in my car and drive away, never to set eyes on this hot guy again. Not only is he my friend’s brother, he’s a client’s father, and everything about him makes me want to be bad…dirty…something a good girl like me should never want, right?
I should run, but can’t seem to pull myself away from the thickness between his legs. As heat zings through my body and dampens my panties, I open my mouth to tell him this isn’t a good idea, but instead, I find myself saying, “What exactly is it that you have to taste first?”
Holy God.
He grins at that. The hot, dirty-talking hockey player is actually grinning at my question. Probably because he knows he’s got me right where he wants me, and the truth is, I’m right where I want to be too, because dammit, it’s time I had some much-needed fun.
Tomorrow, I’ll set him and Daisy up with a new pathologist—one with more experience than me. It’s a win-win, right?
Oh, who am I kidding, this is all kinds of wrong, and there isn’t a thing I can to do stop it, not when he’s running his thick index finger over my lips and looking at me like he’s going to devour me whole.
Yes, please.
“This mouth,” he begins. “These lips.” He dips his head and brushes his mouth over mine, so softly, my entire body quivers. “Do you have any idea what I wanted to do to this mouth of yours since I first set eyes on you today?”
“No,” I say, hanging on his every word and hoping they get dirtier. Good God, what is going on with me? I’m a good girl who shouldn’t want—crave—to hear filthy words. But my ears are perked up, wanting just that. I move against his body, rub my softness against his hardness, and he puts him mouth to my ear, his growl vibrating through me.
“I nearly tugged one out in the shower as I pictured you on your knees before me. You worshipping my cock as I fed it to you.”
“Zander,” I say quickly, his name slipping from my lips.
“Yeah, you like the idea of that?”
“I…” Be honest, Sam. Take a chance.
As I think about that, the humiliation of last time hits like a sucker punch.
“Do you?” he asks again, a little more force behind his words. I lift my eyes to his, and his gaze searches my face.
He knows! He knows how I want it—and every instinct I possess tells me he likes that.
Answer him, Sam. Be honest.
“Yes,” I say. “I like the idea of that.”