Dimly, she realized it might be difficult for him to manage the button one-handed and she started to push his hand away and deal with the button herself, but he shook away her hand and she let him do it, let him work the button until, at last, it came free.
Her jeans dropped to her hips and she took a few steps back, Nick moving with her, until she felt the mattress against the back of her thighs.
She dropped onto the edge of the bed.
Her face was level with Nick’s fly.
She looked up, watched his face as she put her hand over the bulge that strained behind the soft blue denim.
He sucked in his breath.
She caught hers as she felt him pulse against her hand.
Still watching him, she undid the top button of his jeans. Unzipped him. Reached for him, but he stopped her.
“I want to see you naked.”
His voice was raw. It sent
a rush of excitement through her. He took a step back. She rose, eyes on his, and slowly worked her jeans down her hips, down her long legs. Would Nick like what he saw? She wanted to be beautiful for him.
She could feel her excitement building under his gaze, as hot as tendrils of flame. Her breasts, her belly, her thighs…every part of her felt the stroke of his hand even though he had not touched her since he’d undone the button on her jeans.
A tremor went through her.
She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before. Breathless, almost dizzy, the anticipation building and building and building…
“Now,” he said, and Lissa gave her jeans a final push and stepped free of them.
Nick gave an audible groan.
She knew what he was seeing. All of her, completely naked except for a tiny scrap of white lace.
He whispered her name.
She moved closer to him.
He traced the outline of her mouth with one finger.
She caught the tip of that finger lightly between her teeth and sucked it into her mouth.
“You’re killing me,” he said thickly.
She was killing herself as well, and when he withdrew his finger from her mouth, ran it down her chin, down her throat, between her breasts and down her belly, she felt the first unmistakable signs of an impending orgasm.
She was going to come.
Was that possible? Could you come just from a man’s touch?
Nick slid his hand between her thighs. Cupped her, and her unspoken question was answered as a low, fierce cry burst from her throat.
She swayed on her feet and he leaned hard on his crutch so he could wrap his arm around her while his free hand continued the sweet, sweet strokes that had drawn that incredibly primal response.
He told himself to be careful.
He was close to the edge, holding her, inhaling her scent, feeling her body weep against his palm, all that wildfire and hot rain for him.
Only for him.