Keeping Score (Brooklyn Monarchs 3)

He reached for her, lowering his head until his mouth met hers. Her lips were soft and welcoming beneath his. It had been more than four weeks—twenty-nine days—since he’d last touched her. Tasted her. He was starved for her loving. Warrick held her tighter against him. He traced the shape of her mouth with his and she opened for him.

Warrick’s body relaxed with her acceptance. He slipped his tongue between her lips. His senses were overwhelmed by the sweet, hot taste of her. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, his knees went weak. He traced the curves of her slender shape. The touch stirred the memory of the way her body looked above him. The way she felt beneath him. His blood sang in his veins.

Warrick walked them toward the kitchen table. He loosened his hold on her to pull her soft cream blouse from the waistband of her brown pants. He raised his arms so Marilyn could help him pull his jersey over his head. Her fingers singed a trail across his abdomen as she nudged the material higher. She played with the hair on his torso. Warrick’s muscles quivered. His breath quickened at her touch. Could she feel his heart racing? Could she tell how much he needed her?

They shed her blouse and pants with the urgency of their very first time. But it was too fast. He had to slow it down. He wanted Marilyn to remember how good they were together. He needed her to want to come home. Warrick drew in a slow, deep breath. Her scent made him throb with desire. He stepped back, fighting for control. He battled back the desire raging inside him. His body wanted to make this fast and hot. His heart wanted them to last forever.

Marilyn slipped off her black camisole. Warrick’s body tightened at the sight of her slender curves in barely there, wine red underwear. Her firm breasts rose above a demi-cup bra. Her slim hips teased him with a strip of matching cloth.

Warrick wanted to stay in these feelings forever. He wanted to charge forward, past the static between them, and save his marriage. He wanted to go back in time and tell the gangly, nerdish adolescent he’d been that one day he’d marry a woman with brains and the body of a goddess.

He closed the distance between them again. Marilyn’s chocolate eyes darkened as her gaze moved over his chest, down to the khaki pants riding low on his hips. Warrick reached behind her neck and released the clip binding her hair.

He drew his fingers through the thick, loose mass. It was as soft as a sigh against his skin. Her fragrance wafted up to him. Warrick’s muscles tightened. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marilyn balanced her hands on his shoulders. She rose on her toes and touched her lips to his.

Heat shot through him, making him catch his breath. He struggled to find control but need was a fire consuming him from the inside out. Only for this woman. Always for this woman. He clasped Marilyn against him, pressing her breasts to his chest, holding her hips hard to his. Marilyn gasped and Warrick swept his tongue inside her mouth.

Their tongues danced, sliding over and across each other, wrapping around one another in a simulation of the way their bodies would move. Marilyn moaned in her throat. The low, sexy sound made Warrick light-headed. Her body moved with his, telling him what she wanted, what she needed, what she liked.

On the edge of his consciousness, Warrick felt her fingers at the waistband of his pants, working his belt. He stepped back and stripped off his khakis and underwear. Marilyn reached out and molded her palms against his pectorals. His heart beat painfully under her hands. She ran her short, neat fingernails down his chest, over his abdomen, and into the hairs at his groin. Warrick’s muscles quivered with anticipation.

He pulled her into his arms and held her to him. Her skin was warm and soft. Warrick buried his face in her neck. Marilyn trembled in his arms. His hips rocked her. Warrick hooked a hand behind her knee and drew her thigh high against his side. Marilyn moaned and pressed tighter against him. She covered his chest with nips and kisses, licking his nipples and grazing his pecs. She lifted her head and claimed his lips. Her touch made him feel wanted, cherished. Warrick opened his mouth and let her in. His head spun as she pulled his tongue deep into her mouth. She suckled him, caressed him, stroked him. Each intimate caress stoked his desire.

Her hands moved up his back and Warrick trembled. Her fingertips kneaded his muscles and he sighed. And when her nails scratched his bare skin, he stiffened. Her delicate physician’s hands grasped his glutes and worked him against her. Warrick felt her dampen.

He turned with her in his arms, settling her hips on the kitchen table. Warrick reached behind Marilyn and unhooked her bra. He stripped the garment from her and tossed it aside. Warrick dipped his head and kissed Marilyn’s nipples, first the left, then the right. He drew her right breast into his mouth. Her taste was full and sweet. He palmed her left breast, its weight familiar in his hand. Her skin was delicate to his touch.

Warrick lifted his head and looked at her. Her hot chocolate gaze scorched him. Her features were tight with a shared hunger.

He kissed her quick and hard. “You are so beautiful.”

A slow smile curved her lips. “So are you.”

Warrick chuckled and kissed her again. He loved the way she tasted on his mouth, the way she felt in his arms. Marilyn wrapped her legs around his hips and shimmied closer to him. Warrick cupped his hands under her and lifted her from the table. With Marilyn’s arms and legs around him, Warrick sank to the floor. Marilyn released him, allowing Warrick to shift back between her long limbs. His gaze touched on her firm breasts and tight waist before returning to her face.

Her eyes glowed with desire. “I need you now.”

Warrick reached out and stroked her cheek. “I need you forever.”

He closed the distance between them. He kissed her neck, then nibbled his way down her chest to cover her right breast with his mouth.

Heat shot through her breast and settled between her legs. Her head pressed back and her lips parted in a gasp. Warrick’s mouth worked her breast. Marilyn ached with desire. She held her breath as his teeth grazed her nipple. His tongue licked and laved it, twirling its tip. His mouth suckled her harder. Her hips pumped against him, matching the rhythm of his mouth.

Warrick released her. Marilyn bit her lower lip, rolling her head back and forth. He’d lit a fire with his mouth that coursed a path between her breasts and her thighs. He paused at her navel, stroking his tongue in and around the dip. He kissed and licked her before moving on to her hips.

His mouth teased and tormented her as it drew closer and closer to her femininity by centimeters before moving away. Again and again she felt his breath nearing her core before Warrick shifted course. He kissed her hip bone. He nipped her thigh. His tongue grazed her belly—but always at a distance.

“Rick, please.” Marilyn’s fingernails scraped against the smoke and white marble tile flooring.

“What is it, honey?” His breathing stirred between Marilyn’s legs.

She gasped. Her heart tried to punch its way free of her chest. “Stop torturing me.” Her voice was tight.

Warrick’s laughter was low. “All right.” He drew her knees up over his shoulders and kissed her deep.

Marilyn screamed her surprise at the intense sensations igniting her body. She arched her back, lifting her hips higher. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, liquefying her bones. Her muscles strained. Her nipples tightened. Blood rushed through her veins. The muscles inside her pulled to the breaking point.