Best Man With Benefits (McCade Brothers 3)

She took a few steps toward his voice and stumbled over his shoes, unintentionally proving his point.

Somehow he caught her despite the darkness. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work. Hold on.” He put her on her feet, and then the next thing she knew, the nightstand light clicked on.

“There. That’s better. Now, come here.” He snagged a finger into the vee of her blouse and tugged her to him. “You’re overdressed.”

She watched, mute with embarrassment, as his long, capable fingers made quick work of the rest of the buttons. Her tongue unlocked when he parted the fabric and she started to babble.

“So, I just…I should warn you, I’m—”

“Irresistible,” he said as he pushed the shirt down her arms. His attention lingered on the swell of her breasts over her mortifyingly unsexy grandma bra.

“Big. I’m big.” A splotchy crimson flush bloomed under his touch and she knew by the heat in her face that her cheeks had turned the same shade of sunburn.

“Beautiful. I can’t wait to touch every inch of you.”

Whoosh. Anxiety came rushing at her like a tsunami. But his hands were already behind her, unhooking her bra and lowering it down her arms before she could give voice to her doubts. Don’t give them voice, New Sophie urged. Somehow you’ve hit the daily double of excitement and passion. Don’t ruin this moment.

It probably was just a moment. One that would end as soon as the gorgeous Regan crooked her finger at him, but strangely, the temporary nature of the opportunity lifted some of her stress. No need to consider the long-term ramifications of this impulse. There wouldn’t be any, and that thought was surprisingly liberating.

She shivered as wide palms cupped her breasts in a firm hold and lifted them…high. An appreciative growl rumbled from the depths of Logan’s chest. This kind of foreplay normally made her nervous. In her limited experience, guys tended to fixate on her breasts, completely forgetting there was a living, breathing woman attached, who might find all the squeezing and tweaking more annoying than arousing. But Logan’s touch caused her eyelids to droop. Then he removed the support of his hands and let her tight nipples scrape down his palms as the heavy globes sank back against her chest. Her gasp turned into a groan when he repeated the subtle torture.

“Too rough?” he asked, without stopping.

It should have been, because she hadn’t been kidding about her pain tolerance, but for some reason ever

y nerve ending in her body craved more. She couldn’t find it in her to ask him to stop. Her head dropped back without her permission when his thumbs swept over her nipples. “I-It’s perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

She wanted to laugh at the absurd compliment, but the noise that came out of her mouth sounded more like a sob.

“Sophie?” His hands stilled and now she really wanted to cry.

“Just ignore me.” She squeezed her eyes shut and willed him to continue.

His amazing hands abandoned her breasts, and they immediately prickled with neglect. He used his thumb to brush a tear from the corner of her eye. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” But the tears she’d blinked back now looked for an escape route through her sinuses. She sniffed inelegantly and risked a glance at him. He pinned her with an I-call-bullshit look and held up his damp thumb as evidence. “Don’t say things like that to me, okay?”

“Let me get this straight. Your ideal sexual encounter involves absolute darkness and no talking?” He shook his head. “I hate to tell you this, but you have been doing it all wrong.”

“You can talk. Talking is fine. Just don’t call me beautiful or irresistible or perfect.”

“Hold on. Let me write these down, so I have a list of all the forbidden words.” His exasperated smile took any sting out of his comment, but she still felt like an idiot.

“I don’t need pretty words. I know what I look like.”

His smile disappeared. “You don’t have the first clue.” He grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer with one hand and took her wrist in the other. “Come here.” Then he more or less dragged her into the bathroom, turned on the ungodly bright light, dropped the condom on the counter, and positioned them before the mirror—her in front of him. She felt stupid and ungainly and starkly naked from the waist up, until he ran his hands down her shoulders and around to her breasts, took their weight and kneaded them again. The feel of his calloused palms sliding over her smooth skin overrode everything else. She leaned back against him for support and gave herself over to the sensations.

“Look in the mirror, Sophie. Tell me what you see.”

“Beauty and the beast.”

He leaned down and bit her earlobe hard enough to make her moan, and then sucked the tender flesh into his mouth and soothed it with his tongue. “Beast? Are you serious? I’m not that hairy.”

“Not you, idiot. Me.”

“If that’s really how you see yourself, you’re the idiot, not me. Keep watching.”