The Charmer (Harbor City 2)

Gritting his teeth, he sucked in a breath through his nose and let it back out slow, willing his body to get with the fucking program. “Why don’t you observe and enter the data in your field report?”

Breaking the no-touching rule, he took one of her hands and pressed her palm to where his dick strained against the denim. Her soft touch was bad enough, but when she encircled him as best she could and let out a sound that was a mix between a sigh and a moan, he could only close his eyes and start naming every shade on the color wheel while praying to regain control before he went over the edge and came in his jeans.

“Unbutton me,” he said, holding on so tight to the last vestiges of his control that his tone fell somewhere between sandpaper and razor wire.

Felicia looked up at him with those big eyes, her mouth parted and full bottom lip glistening. “Are you sure?”

Fuck, no. “You have to learn to take and to give.”

Her fingertips skimmed over his bare abs, making his muscles jump, and he fisted his hands to keep from cupping her head and urging her closer. If she noticed, it didn’t show. Instead, she stayed focused on tracing the happy trail of hair that went from his lower abdomen to his jeans, her fingers finally landing on the button that was fast becoming the center of his existence.

She stilled her hands, but leaned forward, her hot breath brushing against his skin, and looked up at him. “What was that you said about a fine line between teasing and taunting?”

Hell. Why did he always have to fucking talk so much? “You’re right on it, Matches.”

“Does that mean you’re hot and bothered?” she asked, taking off her glasses and tossing them onto the nearby chair.

“More like hard and demanding.” And closer to dying than a thirty-year-old who just got a clean bill of health should be.

“What do you want?” She flicked open the button of his jeans.

Shit. That list was as long as he was. “Those perfect lips of yours wrapped around my dick.”

“

Oh.” She licked her lips. “Is that all?”

“Matches, that’s just the beginning.”

Tugging her lip between her teeth, she inched down the zipper of his jeans, pulled his cock out from the confines of his boxers and gave him a saucy wink before leaning forward and taking him in her hot mouth, making him totally forget about lessons, Captain Clueless, or anything else except the magic she was performing with her wicked little tongue.

Chapter Eleven

This kind of control could be addicting. There was just something about watching Hudson forget to be Mr. Charming and instead let the real him—the demanding, determined him—come out that made her wet and aching. Instead of easing that ache with her own fingers as she sucked him deeper, she reached out and took his hands, bringing them to her head. His hard exhale as he threaded his fingers through her hair and guided her mouth on a torturous, slow journey up and down on him elicited a shiver deep in her core. Also, it left her hands free to wander, and they did—over his thick, muscular thighs and up to his hard ass so tense from holding back.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She did, losing her sense of rhythm for a second at the sight. His eyes had gone dark and intense with the promise of what was to come, and she wanted it, she wanted it all. A hot wave of desire settled low in her belly, and she cupped his ass, pulling him closer until he filled her mouth completely and went farther until he hit the back of her throat. He let out a harsh groan that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She stayed there, dancing on the edge of just enough and too much, loving every breathless second of it. And then she swallowed.

“Fuck, I can feel that throat of yours working me.” His fingers tightened in her hair as he arched his hips, going deeper. “That’s it.”

He eased back before continuing with a slow thrust forward that brought her lips down to the very base. Once. Twice. Three times. Then, he pulled out completely, stepping away from her and leaving her sucking in breaths and desperate for more. Judging by the fierce look on his face, she wasn’t alone. He had what remained of his clothes stripped off in a heartbeat. God, he was phenomenal. Long, strong legs. Broad shoulders. Defined abs. A dusting of light brown hair across his chest and a happy trail over his six-pack abs that led straight to the rock-hard length of him that she was standing and reaching for before she even realized it.

He evaded her touch with a step back. “Patience is definitely not one of your virtues.”

“Not even close.” Especially not now with evidence of her desire soaking the cotton center of her panties.

“Good.” He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder so her top half hung upside down, and started marching to her bedroom. “Because I’m done flirting.”

Normally, this position would have pissed her off. However, because it gave her the perfect view of his ass and allowed her hands to roam freely across his sinewy back, she wasn’t complaining. No. She was exploring every inch of him she could touch, lick, and smack. Too soon, he put her down so her feet sank into the plush rug in front of her bed.

“Your turn,” he said as he sat down on her bed, a lone male island in the girly, ruffled powder blue sea of her bedroom.

“So, let me see if I got this lesson right.” Her fingers went to the sash helping to hold her dress closed, but instead of pulling it open, she toyed with the soft material. “The key is to go slow.” She tugged at the sash. “But not too slow.” The material slipped free, but a button kept the dress from opening completely. “To tease.” She drew her fingers up over her hip to the button. “But not to taunt.” She slipped the button free but held on to the material, allowing only a few inches of bare flesh to show. “To pull the anticipation tight.” She took two steps so she stood between his legs, loving the battle to stay in control playing out on his face. “Until something snaps.”

She let go, and her dress fell open. He’d never seen her this close to naked before. The other night she’d been still wearing her dress when he’d made her come. Not now. Tonight, she was exposed, vulnerable, unprotected by her usual roomy clothes. When he didn’t move, didn’t even say anything, the voices she’d managed to stay silent up until now started up, detailing all her faults and chipping away at her until she was reaching for the dress edges to wrap the material around her.

“Don’t you dare.” He covered her hands with his, keeping them by her sides. “You’re fucking beautiful.”