Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

I bit my lip to halt my laugh but was unsuccessful. “Then let’s have sex.” I peppered his face with kisses.

“Dahlia.”

“Fuck me,” I whispered against his mouth.

His grip on my hips turned bruising, his face dark with desire. “I don’t want to fuck you the first time,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I want to make love to you. And not in my car but in a nice bed in a nice place because that’s what you deserve.”

My God, could he be any more perfect?

I kissed him with all the love inside me that I hadn’t vocalized yet. I was going to tell him tonight. After we made love in his car, I was going to whisper those three little words in his ear.

“Dahlia …” Michael broke the kiss. “You’re driving me crazy.”

I knew I was. I could feel his erection digging into my ass, and I deliberately rubbed myself against it. He hissed, his fingers biting into my waist.

Despite the pleasure, the need, saturating his features, I could still sense his resistance. There was something very hot about seducing Michael Sullivan. We kissed—slow, sexy kisses that seemed to go on forever. But it wasn’t enough to break his will. Deciding to bring out the big guns, I released my hold on him, grabbed the hem of my sweater, and yanked it up over my head.

My heavy breasts bounced with the movement and Michael froze beneath me.

His hot eyes locked onto my breasts, somewhat concealed in an emerald-green satin bra that was made to tantalize way more than it was made to support.

“You like?” I whispered. “I bought it for you.”

Michael’s answer was to cup my breasts. They spilled over his hands, and he grew harder beneath me. “I like. I love. Love your tits,” he muttered, spellbound by them.

I grinned. “Yeah?”

His eyes flew to mine, and he kneaded them, making me whimper as pleasure shot straight between my legs. “I’ve thought about doing a lot of dirty things to your tits.”

I covered his hands with mine and squeezed again, rolling my hips against his lips. “Tell me.”

So he did. In lurid detail. Until I was burning hot and losing my mind.

“Do it,” I demanded against his lips. “Michael.”

His mouth covered mine, swallowing my pleas in his voracious, deep, wet kisses that took my skin from hot to combustible. His fingers fumbled for the buttons on my jeans.

Yes!

“Get in the back,” he growled against my mouth.

No need to tell me twice.

I clambered off him, and less than gracefully fell into the back of the car. Michael was too big to get between the seats so as I scrambled out of my jeans, he got out and opened the back door. I let out a laugh of breathless excitement as he got in and slammed the door behind him.

Then I was wrapped around him, my arms, my legs, as he kissed me passionately, hungrily, his hands searching for my bra clasp. It snapped open, and we broke our kiss to pull it away. Then his mouth and tongue were on my breasts, and he pushed beneath my underwear to rub at my clit.

“Oh, God.” I clawed at his T-shirt, wanting to feel his skin.

He got the message and whipped it off. Seeing his determination to torment me, I reached between us and unzipped him. “Now, Michael. I’m ready. You can feel I’m ready.” Pushing beneath his jeans to his boxer briefs, I slipped my hands down over his hard ass, taking the clothes with him, so his cock sprang free.

“I need you.” I looked deep into his eyes. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. Are you?”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Then come inside me.”

His expression was fierce with passion as he gripped my thigh in one hand. He braced himself over me with the other. He was hot and throbbing against me, and I was thrown back to that day in the darkroom. We’d been so frantic to have each other, it was a miracle we’d made it this long without doing it!