Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

They are full, a little fuller on the bottom in a way that makes me hurt everywhere, with light pink nipples that stand at attention.

They are soft.

So soft looking. I reach for one breast, mindless with lust, and measure its weight in my hand.

Gracie’s lids go heavy when I look at her.

I am holding Gracie Jackson’s breast. Her attention, too.

It’s way too much goodness.

I need my mouth on her. Everywhere. Need to hear her moan my name again.

So I put my hands on her hips and duck down and take one nipple, then the other, in my mouth. Pressing the flat of my tongue against her pointed tips.

She smells so good. Perfume and power.

“Luke,” she’s saying, fingers digging into my shoulders. “Oh, Luke.”

Fuck me, the way she says my name. Like it’s a plea. A secret.

I look up at her. Move south.

Keep looking as I work my tongue over the soft plane of her belly.

She nods when I reach for the fly of her jeans.

Swallows. For a split second I imagine her swallowing my cum. My dick in her mouth, eyes watering, body shaking.

I growl. Literally fucking growl.

Gracie’s eyes flash with renewed arousal. She says I get it. She does, too.

She gets that she’s making me come undone. Which is a good thing. I want her to see me stripped of armor. I want her to see me vulnerable. On my knees.

Because maybe then she’ll feel safe enough to let me see her that way, too.

I flick the button of her jeans through its hole. Tear down the zipper.

Tear down the jeans. Revealing a black lace thong that matches her bra.

My blood roars.

I wanna legit tear this shit off her. Throw her down on this bed and climb on top of her and fuck her hard and raw and fast.

My God do I want that. My self-control is in shreds.

I have no doubt we’ll get to the point where I can just let go. But tonight is all about making her feel comfortable. Getting to know her body and her needs.

Adore. Worship. Conquer.

Tonight is all about adoring Gracie. Which means going slow.

So I straighten, towering over her on my knees. I look down at her. Bite the inside my lip.

I got this.

Still, my fingers shake a little when I run them underneath the delicate strap of her thong, tracing the contour of her hipbone.

“Show me,” I murmur. “Show me this pretty pussy.”

Show me who you are. So I can show you just how much I’ll adore you.

The real you.Chapter TenGracieI am overwhelmed.

Ten minutes into this thing, and I am already overwhelmed in the best way possible.

Ten minutes in, and I already feel more turned on—more wanted—than I have in forever.

Luke’s gaze is steady on mine, but his fingers are shaking against my skin.

My heart clenches.

When was the last time someone needed me this way?

I can’t remember. I do remember Nick’s desire for me feeling tepid. At least compared to Luke’s. Because Luke’s need—

My God, it’s a nuclear fucking inferno with the power to take out whole continents.

My confidence grows by the heartbeat. Expanding inside my chest like a bubble—the kind kids blow—that refuses to detach from its wand. Getting bigger and bigger, not breaking, just growing and floating innocuously inside my ribcage like it doesn’t have the power to devastate me when it pops.

Because it always, always pops.

Be careful be careful be careful.

Oh, but how am I supposed to be careful when Luke is laying me down on his bed and telling me in a lust-roughened voice to raise my hips as he takes off my jeans and rakes his hungry gaze over my body?

How am I supposed to be careful when he’s making me feel so comfortable and welcome?

You can do this, I tell myself as my heart hammers against my breastbone. Letting go doesn’t mean letting him in.

The mattress is soft against my back. The scent of detergent wafts off the pillows as I fall back on them.

He is so clean and so thorough. Who knew?

Makes the contrast of his very dirty mouth all the more compelling.

Guy’s got layers. I like that.

Be careful.

“You think a lot, don’t you?” Luke says.

I blink. Look up at him. “I do. Probably too much.”

“I can see your wheels turnin’,” he replies, nodding. “It’s okay to let go. Maybe you could try thinkin’ and analyzin’ a bit less here—hand the reins over to me.”

Biting my lip, I blink again, hard. Lord do I like the sound of that. I also like that he realizes I need a little guidance right now.

He’s stepping up to the plate in a big way. And even though I’m still struggling to allow myself to be vulnerable—even though I’m still unsure—his confidence soothes my nerves.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s try it.”

Now I’m laying down on top of the covers, hot and panting in nothing but my thong, while Luke is still on his knees beside me.