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Tacker (Arizona Vengeance 5)

Page 66

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Closing the door, I engage the bottom lock, deadbolt, and chain. I’m not really worried for myself, but this isn’t the greatest of neighborhoods so might as well be safe.

Just as my hand drops away from the chain, someone knocks on my door. It startles me a moment. I actually jump backward before leaning in to put my eye to the peephole.

I’m stunned to see Nora on my stoop.

I hasten to unlock everything, then swing the door open. Nora greets me with a sheepish grin, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“Hey,” I say stupidly, thrilled to see her, yet not really understanding why this vision is gracing me with her presence.

“Hey,” she replies nervously.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, taking her in. I left her less than an hour ago, yet I feel like I haven’t seen her in weeks. It was so fucking hard to tear away from that kiss earlier. She must have gotten in her car and followed me straight here.

“Well,” she drawls with a slow shrug. “I was thinking about what you said right before you left, and I kind of think tonight might be perfect.”

My head swims. While I know what she’s talking about, I’m thinking I didn’t hear her straight. “Perfect?”

She nods, sort of coyly, but her eyes heat up slightly. The dichotomy is sexy as hell on her. “Tonight, I think we would make it perfect.”

Jesus.

Yes… she’s talking about sex.

Tonight.

Right now.

“Going to invite me in?” she asks, her expression clearly saying she expects me to do so.

“Of course,” I say, opening the door wider to gesture her in. “But I don’t want you to think I expect anything—”

My words are cut off. Rather than coming into my apartment, Nora walks her body right into mine. Her hands come to my face, slide along to the back of my head, and she pulls me down to her.

Right to her mouth where she launches a fully engaged, hot as fuck, sizzling kiss on me that makes my legs weaken and my cock thicken.

Christ.

This is happening.

My legs bend, hands to her ass, and I’m hauling her up my body. When she tightens her legs around my waist, I spin, walking her back into the door where I can press up against her. She can’t miss the fully engaged erection now hard between her legs, and it’s confirmed when she moans and grinds down on me.

Again… dizzy. Flooded with sensation and overwhelmed by having a soft, warm woman in my arms for the first time in sixteen months.

But not just any woman.

Nora.

Her fingers dive into my hair, her mouth fusing onto mine. Tiny little noises of need echo in the back of her throat, and I have an overwhelming urge to tear her clothes off and take her right here against the door.

But then I remember.

She said it would be fucking perfect. While I’m not averse to eventually having her against the door, wall, or on the counter—wherever—I want to slow this down so it’s enjoyed.

I want to give her perfection.

Pulling my mouth away, I pin my eyes on her face. It’s flushed, her expression a bit dazed. “You sure about this?”

“I stopped at the convenience store down the road and got condoms,” she replies, and I can feel the heat creeping up my neck. Good fucking thing since I sure as hell don’t have any.

Dipping my face, I let my forehead rest against hers a moment. “Let me apologize in advance for the fact I only have an air mattress in my room.”

Nora snorts, and I lift my head. “It doesn’t matter because it’s going to be perfect, remember?”

“Yeah,” I murmur softly. “I remember.”

My mouth returns to hers, this time just brushing against it, then I carry her through my small living room, past my pathetic recliner, and down the short hall to my bedroom. Nora merely presses her cheek against mine for the ride.

I let her slowly slide down, relishing every inch of the way her body touches mine on the journey. It’s relieving and torturous at the same time.

Nora’s feet touch the carpet, and she examines my small room before returning her attention to me. Her lips quirk up. “It’s… um… functional.”

“Unless the mattress deflates while we’re on it,” I point out.

We just stare at each other a moment before we burst out laughing, and… this really is perfect.

“Come here,” I say, crooking my finger.

It takes her no more than three steps, but she’s back in my arms and we’re kissing. Slow, sensuous movements of our mouths, tongues. Hands roaming, stroking, plucking.

It’s perfect because our clothes somehow seem to melt away without any awkward dancing around or interference with this slow-burn foreplay we have going on. Nora even manages to pull the condoms from her back pocket and gracefully tosses them onto my bed before I divest her of her jeans.



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