He was well and truly awake when she took him in her hand, licked lightly over his head and said, “May I?”
His groaned, “Yes,” was way too morning-voice husky and needy. Her may I was on the cusp of too late to call and too promising to deny. She laughed and he slung his arm over his eyes. “It’s early. Be gentle.”
“It’s late and you don’t like it too gentle,” she said, blowing hot air on him and making all the hair on his body prickle, either from her attention or that she remembered how he liked it.
“I want you to come with me.” She closed her mouth over his head and he almost lost the ambition. “Want to be able to reach your clit, make you come on my hand while I come on your body.”
She hummed as she opened her mouth and took more of him inside. She liked that idea. He liked the vibration and the way she used her tongue. He propped up on his elbows to watch. If she kept up, he’d have nothing left to share. When she pulled off, closed her teeth and rubbed them against the underside of his head, the sensation was so good he pretty much sang her a song, a string of nonsense garbled lyrics, before grabbing her under the arms and hauling her up his body.
“I wasn’t done,” she said, tongue darting out to lick his chin.
He clamped both hands down on her arse. “You will be. Go hold onto the dresser.” It was a built-in affair, attached to the wall made of dark wood grained Laminex. It was ugly and indestructible. The mirror above it was positioned perfectly for maximum erotic viewing pleasure.
She licked his chin again. “Bossy.”
“Is that a problem?” The way she was shifting against him, it’d be a surprise if it was.
“Not if you can make me see fireworks.”
He’d make her think it was the stroke of midnight, New Year’s Eve. The weight of her body in his arms was one of the ingredients of happiness he’d been missing for a long time. “Right about now, it would be fucking fantastic if I could kiss you.”
Her hair flicked his cheeks as she shook her head. “Not a chance. Also, morning breath.”
She had a point. He didn’t come prepared to spend the night like she had. No toothbrush. The shadow in her eyes told him that wasn’t the real problem.
“Tice Social. Reputation management from the wild side,” he said, quoting her company name and motto.
“Who told you? I’m going castrate Grip.”
“I do all my own Googling.,” he said with an eyebrow waggle. “I should’ve looked you up years ago. You’re incredible.”
Her shrug said no big deal. The tiny smile that twisted her lips said, where’s my parade? Jesus, fuck, he wanted to kiss her.
Until the act of kissing on the mouth had been denied him, he’d never realized how much he craved it, needed it to say what his voice, hands and body couldn’t, what Evie refused to hear. Everything else about sex was brilliant when you had chemistry with someone but kissing their lips was a whole extra level of connection.
Lips against lips said hello, pleased to see you, I missed you, I trust you, I don’t want to leave you. Sinking into someone’s mouth said I want you, I admire you, you do it for me. You couldn’t say I love you and not back that up with a kiss in the moment, in memory or a promise to come.
“I make bank and I love what I do,” she said.
Worth the risk. “You don’t miss singing?”
Her weight lifted as her knees sank into the bed and she pull away, sitting with her back, vines and butterflies, to him. “Don’t ruin this.”
“How am I ruining it?” He scooted up behind her, legs either side of her crossed ones, almost touching her everywhere.
“This thing between us isn’t some repeat of when we were young. We’re not those same two people anymore.”
“I’m just supposed to fuck you according to your rules and I can’t be interested in your life?” Did he sound pissed? He itched with it.
“I’m not the one who said no penis in vagina.”
“No, you’re the one who said you wouldn’t survive my kisses. What the fuck is that about?”
He caught her as she was about to shift off the bed. Not worth the risk of scaring her away. A hand to her shoulder to slow her, a leg over her hip when she didn’t shake him off.
She leaned into him with a resigned sigh. “Morning breath.”
He could have her body, but not her heart and mind. “That’s not your problem, you’re a scam artist.”