One of his hands kept her tight against him, while the other slid low to
curl over her fabulous backside.
“La Perla?” he said when he felt the lace beneath his fingers. “Autumn range?”
Kirsty giggled.
“If I couldn’t feel the evidence, Lake Benson, that statement would seriously make me question your love of women.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Don’t screw this up,” she said, deadly serious.
“I won’t.”
She nodded and kissed him hard. Lake groaned deep in his chest. His hands curved under her rear as he lifted her and lowered her onto the bed. Kirsty wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down on top of her.
Kirsty felt schizophrenic. There was one Kirsty who wanted to pour herself into Lake, feel everything there was to feel and never let go. Then there was the other Kirsty who wanted to put on her most matronly clothes and hide away from Lake, in fact all men, forever. With each kiss, with each touch, the two Kirstys battled it out inside of her until she felt like she was losing her mind.
“I want to do this, I do,” she said.
“Good to know.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and lay along the right side of her body. The scarred side. His right hand trailed down the left of her body, over unbroken skin. His caress was part exploration, part tease. Kirsty found herself breathless and arching up into his touch. He leaned forward and kissed his way down her neck to her shoulder, over her collarbone to her breast. His hand met his lips there, and together they made her groan.
“Definitely La Perla,” he said. “I’d know that taste anywhere.”
Her giggle turned to a gasp as he sucked her through the lace.
“There’s something wrong here,” she said. It was an effort to get the words out.
“I’m doing something wrong?” he said with the confidence of a man who didn’t believe it was possible.
“You’re still wearing your jeans.”
He looked up at her. She could barely see him in the darkness, but she could make out the grin.
“Say please and I’ll take them off.”
Kirsty grinned back.
“How about I say ‘you don’t get anything else out of me until you do’?”
“Is that right?”
To prove her wrong he slid his hand low on her body and ran a finger along the lace of her panties to the heat between her legs. Kirsty’s eyes closed all by themselves as her hips rose off the bed to meet his touch.
“You were saying?”
She could hear the laughter and the lust in his voice.
“Get the damn jeans off,” she barked.
Lake laughed that deep, throaty laugh of his that drove her crazy and climbed off the bed. Kirsty propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. She could just about make out the sight of him rooting around in his pocket. Something landed on the bed beside her. She counted at least ten condoms.
“You carry that many condoms around with you?” she said.
“Only since I met you.”