Make Me Up (Killer Style 3) - Page 35

“It won’t be.” He gave her the briefest of kisses. “Trust me.”

“Not if that’s how you’re going to deliver your promises.” She sank her fingers into his thick hair and brought his lips to hers. They were as soft as the rest of him was hard. It was a challenging kiss, one meant to get him to take off the gloves and make her forget about everything else in the world but him.

She tugged her red sundress over her head and revealed a silver satin bra with tiny teal blue ribbons that matched his eyes—a fact she could now admit to herself played into her decision to purchase it. “You’re not going to complain about going too fast tonight, are you?”

“Hell no.” He reached his hands over his head, grabbed the back of his T-shirt and yanked it off. “At least not the first time today.”

She popped the top button of her skinny jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. “You think there’ll be another night?”

“Babe.” He swooped up her ankles, grabbed ahold of her jean hems, and dragged them off of her. “There’s going to be more than once tonight.”

She released his top button and reached for his zipper, long past the end of her limited patience. “Promises. Promises.”

“Don’t worry, I always deliver.” He circled her wrist, but instead of pushing her away like he had last night, he tugged her wrist lower and brought down his zipper still held between her fingers.

But she didn’t look down. Instead, she sucked in her bottom lip and let her gaze travel over the wide expanse of his bare chest. She’d expended so much effort the other night not to look that she couldn’t miss this opportunity to drink in her fill. She never could get enough of looking at him.

She started at the top, took in his broad shoulders, and dropped her focus. Her mouth watered at his muscular pecs, his flat peach nipples that were so much paler than her own. His pale blond happy trail started near the bottom of his six pack abs, and she followed it lower, until her attention wandered to the spot where the muscle cut a V along his hips. She didn’t know what it was called, but she couldn’t wait to lick her way up the well-defined line.

Her hands shook as she spread the opening of his jeans and pushed them over his tight ass. Her fingers didn’t snag on any boxers or briefs. The man had gone commando. She looked down…and her brain melted.

She wrapped her fingers around his hard cock and squeezed lightly. “Damn, you are pretty everywhere.”

He flexed his fingers, then fisted his hands at his sides and let out a shaky groan. “That kind of talk can go to a guy’s head.”

“Will it go to this one?” She leaned forward, slid her tongue across the curve at the tip of his cock, relished his shiver of pleasure. This was what she wanted—to make Cam Hardy quake under her touch until they both forgot for a moment about all the bad shit going on outside the motel room door.

“Fuck yes.” Desire thickened his voice as he tipped his hips closer to her.

“Good.” She took her time, licked up and down his length before taking him in her mouth and sliding her lips down nearly to the base.

“Not yet.” He nudged her shoulders.

She pulled away and looked up at him, then licked her lips and savored the taste of him on her tongue. “Changed your mind?”

“Yes.” He hooked his hands under her arms, lifted her off the cheap motel quilt, and tossed her farther up the bed. She landed with a bounce, but there wasn’t time to worry about flying off the mattress. He crawled up the bed after her and stopped only when his muscular arms were on either side of her shoulders. He stared down at her, and his dirty blond hair hung forward. “We’re taking it slow.”

She trailed a finger down the center of his chest, thrilled at the way his muscles flexed under her touch. “So you think you’re in charge?”

“Babe.” He lowered himself over her like he was doing a pushup, which brought him within millimeters of touching her from thigh to mouth and everywhere in between. “I’m not that big of an idiot.”

But he was big in other ways, and damn wasn’t she glad for it. Languid desire flowed like a lazy river through her, and all she wanted was to float away on it.

“You wanna go slow, huh?” Curious about just how far she could push him, she raised one leg so that it slid along his inner thigh. Steady. Deliberate. Teasing. “Like this?”

“I see I need to teach you a lesson.” He dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss that turned that lazy river inside her into a rushing torrent. As soft as the rest of him was hard, the kiss was a demonstration in the power of wanting.

She ran her hands up his arms, over his biceps, across the curve of his shoulder, and around to his back. Whatever else was falling apart around them, they had this right now, and she wasn’t going to let a single bit of him go unexplored.

As if reading her mind, he flipped over onto his back and took her with him so that she ended up sitting astride him. “I want to watch you.”

“Then let me improve the view.” She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. The straps slid off her shoulders, but she didn’t let the silver satin fall from her breasts. Not yet. Never letting the cups drop, she slid one arm and then the other free from the bra’s confines. Then slowly, so slowly that Cam cursed under his breath, she lowered the bra and revealed her breasts.

She leaned forward and stretched her body as long as it would go. Her breasts hung heavy above Cam’s parted lips. “Still want to go slow?”

He flicked his tongue against her nipple and circled the hard nub, then sucked it into his warm mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh and pulled it taut, sharpening the pleasure coursing through her. His hands grazed her sides, then stopped at the tiny strings holding up her satin panties.


Tags: Avery Flynn Killer Style Romance
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