Touched By The Devil (Devil's Riders 7)

I pulled my shirt off and climbed into bed with her, removing the last vestiges of her clothing. I surveyed my prize, running my hands over her gorgeous body. She couldn’t have been more perfectly made, soft and curvy, with flat planes and smooth lines. She was completely feminine from her gorgeous head to her cute little toes.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” I said reverently as I looked her over.

She inhaled deeply as she stared at me in awe. She didn’t know she was beautiful, I realized in that moment. She had no idea what she was doing to me.

Or how hard the rest of the night was going to be.

I lay by her side and pulled her into my arms to kiss her. That first moment of feeling her breasts against my bare chest was indescribable. She felt so good wrapped tightly against me. So right. I could not get enough of her. My hands roamed freely over all that beautiful skin, exploring and touching, learning her body. I knew I’d never forget an inch of her.

When I finally lifted my head to look at her, I could see she was feeling it too. Something deep was happening between us. Something special.

“You can take your pants off if you want,” she said breathlessly.

“If I do that, we will be doing something else all night.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip, looking unsure. That look cemented my decision not to take things all the way. Not yet. Not tonight.

“And when we do, I want to be able to take my time with…” My eyes raked up and down her body. “You.”

She sighed.

“I want you.”

I squeezed her.

“Not as badly as I want you.” I pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “I would like to spend the night. If that’s all right.”

She nodded shyly. “Are you tired? We could eat,” she offered.

I gave her a heated look, running my hand down her belly to her slick pussy. She gasped as I began to toy with her folds again.

“Oh, I plan to.”

Her eyes widened, and I grinned, my eyes devouring her body as I kissed my way down and tossed her gorgeous legs over my shoulders.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

I slowed things down the third time, really tasting the outside of her soft pussy. I loved the soft sounds of pleasure she made. I loved the way her fingertips gripped my hair and tugged. I loved everything about eating her out.

It was a good thing, too, because I planned to do it all night, until we passed out or my jaw froze up.

It was going to be a long, hot, and frustrating night.

Chapter 17

Suzanna

I stared into space, my hands buried in potting soil. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the sound of a jackhammer jolted me back to the present. It was slightly muted by the three trees Mac and his friends had planted for me. He said adding a few more would help soften the sound some more, and when they grew in, it would help block the smells and construction dust too.

Even with the jackhammer and orders to fill, I could not stop thinking about last night.

Or this morning.

I’d woken up snuggled against Mac’s broad chest, limp from what he’d done the night before. What he’d done many, many times the night before. He’d made love to me with his mouth all night, pausing only to rest and eat a little. Then he’d done it again when we woke up, after serving me breakfast in bed.

Omelets. From scratch. He’d even gotten fresh herbs from the garden.

You have not lived until a shirtless hunk serves you breakfast in bed. And then makes breakfast out of you.

I didn’t know what to make of it. He was spoiling me rotten. Mac was good at everything he did. Too good.

He was too perfect, the kind of guy you conjured up when you pitched a new television show. Rough around the edges, brimming with raw masculinity, but sweet and kind and sexy as hell. It was like I had a fairy godmother who knew exactly what I wanted—even more than that, who knew what I needed. She’d tossed two parts sexy action star with one part blue-collar stud and tossed amazingly kind, generous, and thoughtful into the mix. Not to mention the incredible things the man could do with his tongue. I didn’t even know how to qualify that.

All of that added up to me, head over heels for a guy I’d barely known a week. It was bad. Very bad. Dangerous.

I was afraid to give in to what my heart was telling me.

I was falling in love with Mac. Scratch that. I’d already fallen.

I shook my head and forced myself to focus. I was transplanting some six-week-old seedlings that had taken root. They were ready for bigger pots and sunnier spots in the greenhouse before some of them made it into the raised beds.