Every Time I Fall (Orchid Valley 3)

She shakes her head. “I’ve had it since college. It was tender that first six months or so while it healed, but it’s no different than my pierced ears now.” She tugs on an earring to demonstrate.

“Good.” With both hands, I shove her shirt up to just beneath her breasts, exposing her soft stomach and the blue jewels sitting just above and just inside her navel. I flick my gaze up to hers and hold it as I lean forward and suck the top stud into my mouth.

Abbi draws in a ragged breath and sways toward me. “Whoa.” Her hands slide into my hair as I kiss the skin around the piercing—licking and nipping and sucking until she’s unsteady and the hands in my hair are the only thing keeping her upright.

Standing, I tug her shirt off over her head and toss it onto the couch. I see the moment she tenses, see her hold her breath as if waiting for me to deliver the verdict on her shirtless-ness. So I give it. “Fucking beautiful,” I murmur. She’s wearing a simple black bra, and her full breasts swell over the cups.

I want to bury my face in them, to feel them fill my hands, to see if I can get her off with nothing but my tongue and fingers on her nipples.

“Bedroom,” I say, but the word comes out like a growl.

Abbi bites her bottom lip but backs toward her bedroom door. “I thought we were keeping our clothes on tonight.”

“Pants.” I take a step forward and smack her ass. “I made no promises about tops or bras, and I’m dying to get my mouth on those perfect tits of yours.”

Her cheeks blaze red, but she backs toward the bedroom then inside it, eyes glued to me as I prowl toward her, step for step. The back of her thighs hit the bed, and she stops.

I close the distance between us and snake my arms around her to the clasp on her bra. She shuts her eyes and holds her breath. I stop myself. “Breathe, precious. You’re safe. Right here, right now, with me, there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“I know.” She opens her mouth as if she’s going to explain but then closes it again as she steps out of my arms. She wraps her arms around herself, and that signal of insecurity, of defensiveness, breaks my heart.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” She’s quiet for a long time, and I wait, channeling my thoughts. You can trust me. I promise I won’t hurt you. When she still doesn’t say anything, I ask, “Do you want me to leave?”

She turns to me again and shakes her head. “No. I just . . . When you came to my office and we fooled around? That was one of the hottest experiences of my life.”

“Same.” I step closer and stroke her sides with my thumbs.

“I liked it like that because there was no reason to rush.”

I cough out a laugh. “You mean you like the rush?” Because if she thinks that was me taking my time, she’s going to be shocked when I finally do get her naked. “It’s hot sometimes, but a slow weekend in bed is good too.” I kiss her neck. “I want to do things to you that I need hours for.”

She shivers in my arms. “I mean, you won’t feel like you need to rush if it’s the under-clothes sneaking around.”

I frown, still not following, and pull back to study her face. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

The tits on a Barbie are more natural than her smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Abbi . . .”

She sways toward me, her soft breasts pressing against my chest. “Please?”

I swallow and nod. I’m not sure I could say no to anything when she says please like that. “Okay. For now.”

“Thanks,” she says, then her smile turns real. “Now can I take your shirt off too?” She’s already grabbing the hem, and I lift my arms overhead to help her peel it off.

After she tosses it on the floor, I cup her breasts and dip my head to skim a kiss over the swell of each one. She trembles in my arms. “Sensitive?” I graze her nipples through the fabric.

She shivers. “Yeah.”

I flick each with my tongue, tasting satin when I’m craving her skin. “Too sensitive?”

She arches her back. “It’s good.” Taking my hands, she backs onto the bed and guides me to follow.

I straddle her hips and bend to kiss her deeply. Her hands stray down my chest and over my stomach. She finds the bulge of my erection through my jeans and strokes me. I straighten to give her better access and thrust gently into her hand. “You feel that? I fucking want you.”

“I love it,” she says, her gaze bold as she strokes me. She pops the button on my jeans, and I’m aching so badly that I groan.