Southern Gentleman (Charleston Heat 3)

I hope that’s not the case today.

Turning his head, Greyson looks at me over his shoulder. Eyes landing on my hoodie.

“What the fuck did I say about my no-clothes policy?”

A shiver darts up my spine. He’s being growly and impatient—the villain, the werewolf—and I love it. I grab the hem of my hoodie and stride in front of him, yanking it over my head as I make for the bed.

Before I can get there, Greyson grabs me by the hand and pulls me against him. My back to his front. I suck in a breath at the delicious sensation of skin on skin.

He leans down to press a kiss to my neck, nicking me with his teeth as he hooks a finger into my bra clasp at my back. He uses his thumb to guide the clasp free, and pushes the straps of my bra over my shoulders.

It falls to the ground.

My nipples are simultaneously a little sore and screaming for attention. I reach behind me and dig my fingers into his hair again, arching a little so he takes the hint.

His palms smooth over the sides of my torso just underneath my underarms toward my front.

Gently—with a softness that takes me off guard—he cups my breasts, carefully kneading them in his palms.

Electricity spreads throughout my skin. My eyes flutter shut.

One thing that’s always struck me about Greyson is how hard he grabs things. Opportunity. Timing. The world’s balls.

But right now, he’s achingly tender. Taking my tits in his hands and gathering their weight in his palms, like he’s touching light.

The divine for the first time.

“This okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear. “I know you said you were sore.”

I fist his hair in reply. “This—so good.”

He leans down and kisses my neck, sending bolts of heat straight to my clit. I moan. His hands move to my yoga pants, and then he’s tugging them over my hips.

I step out of them, one leg at a time. I’m naked. Unprepared. I usually get regular waxes, but that went out the window with my positive pregnancy test. Couldn’t fathom getting my pubic hairs ripped out while in the throes of morning, noon, and night sickness.

My body has changed, too. My nipples have gotten bigger and darker. I’m not showing yet, but my stomach is distended. Like I just ate the person-sized burrito I was this morning.

But right now, I don’t give a fuck. I’m turned on and I’m doing this.

I’m sexy just as I am.

A fact Greyson confirms when I turn around to face him. His eyes rake shamelessly over my body, making goosebumps break out on my skin.

“Baby, you look—”

He reaches out. Puts a hand on my belly and shakes his head.

“What?”

His eyes lock on mine. “Beautiful.”

Cannot. Even.

I grab the tie at the waistband of his sweats. Give it a tug, releasing the knot. The waistband sags just the tiniest bit, revealing a vein that snakes down his groin and an arrow of dark pubic hair.

My pussy sings.

Licking my lips, I pull his sweats down a little more. Just enough to bare his cock. It juts obscenely—unabashedly—from between his hips.

Man’s got a gorgeous dick. Not huge, not little, just right. It stands straight up, the shaft smooth, save for the two veins that line the underside. The head is pink and perfectly round.

I wrap my hand around him, reveling in the feel of his skin. Hot. Tight. It’s been so long since I touched him like this.

I’ve missed it.

He hisses when I draw my thumb over the head. I look up and meet his gaze. Give him a slow, easy pull, working the skin over his shaft.

His eyes are hooded. He leans down and kisses my mouth, gliding a hand onto my face.

“So good,” he repeats against my lips. “So good, baby.”

He moans when I pull a little harder, tightening my grip. I slip a finger lower, giving his balls a caress. His hips buck. He bites my bottom lip.

“Nu-huh,” he growls. “You come first. Like always.”

My heart dips. And then he’s lifting me by the backs of my thighs, his dick pressing against my belly as he takes one, two steps and sets me lightly on the bed.

I fall onto my back, my knees parting. Greyson’s eyes catch on my pussy as he steps out of his sweats.

His nostrils flare.

I want him there. So badly.

At first, that’s what I think he’s going to give me. He climbs over me, covering me with his big, broad body. Trailing his mouth over my knees, my belly, stopping to gently suck on a nipple before kissing my chest and neck. My legs fall completely open, and he settles between them, bracketing my head with his elbows.

The hair on his thighs brushes against my legs. The thrill of having him completely—completely naked, no boundaries, no rules—is indescribably sweet.