Keeping Score (Brooklyn Monarchs 3)

Marilyn’s heart sighed.

Olivia Newton-John wrapped up the song, promising to hold on to the end. Warrick straightened, drawing her with him so that her feet left the ground, and pressed his lips to hers. Marilyn’s eyes drifted close. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight.

She was floating. Her head spun from his taste. Her pulse raced from his touch. She shivered as his mouth moved from her lips to her cheek, her chin, then down her neck. Marilyn tipped her head back and held her breath as Warrick licked his way to the pulse at the nape of her neck.

His hands pressed her closer to his strength. They raised her up and held her steady as he loved her. Warrick’s mouth returned to hers. He cherished her with his touch. In his kiss, she sensed the same devotion he’d sang of.

Marilyn parted her lips on a sigh. “Rick.”

His tongue stole inside. Marilyn drank him in. His feel, his taste, his scent. She stroked the roof of his mouth with the tip of her tongue and her toes curled. She caressed the sides and his teeth and her stomach did flips. She reacted to his scent, his touch, his taste as desperately today as she had their first time.

Marilyn wrapped her legs around Warrick’s hips and held him tight. Warrick cupped her hips and pulled her closer to him. Her breath hitched in her throat. Marilyn’s hips rolled against his in response to his touch.

This is what she did to him. And his heat turned her bones to jelly. Her body was weightless, warm, and wet.

Had she moaned or had he?

Warrick leaned over. Marilyn’s arms and legs slipped from his body, and she landed on the mattress.

Marilyn’s eyes flew open. Her gaze circled their bedroom. “How did we get here?”

Warrick grinned. He braced an arm on either side of her head. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Magic.” His words whispered against her lips and her thighs went lax.

Marilyn’s arms rose of their own accord, twining around his neck. Her fingertips trailed the smooth, hot skin from the base of his head down his long neck. They dug into the deep muscles of his shoulders and back.

Marilyn groaned. “Too many clothes.”

“You’re right.” Warrick’s breath tickled her ear. Marilyn’s body shivered.

Warrick stood beside the bed, pulling her with him. Their clothes disappeared between licks, kisses, and caresses. Soon, there was nothing between them; nothing that mattered in this moment. There was only the two of them and their passion.

Marilyn reached out. She stroked her fingers over Warrick’s well-sculpted torso, his deep pectorals, and six-pack abdominals. Her right hand hovered over his full erection before cupping him. His hips flexed, pushing himself against her palm. Marilyn felt a rush of pleasure and power at his response.

“Tell me what you want.” Warrick’s words were a husky request. “What would make you happy?”

Marilyn’s fingers traced the hard angles of his features. She cupped his face with her palm and looked deep into his midnight eyes. “You. You make me happy.”

Warrick bent his head. She rose on her toes to meet him. His mouth covered hers and she parted her lips to accept his tongue. He swept inside her mouth as his hips again pressed into her hand. Marilyn stroked him. She smiled as his body shook against hers. It thrilled her that this big, strong man ached for her as much as she yearned for him.

Warrick pressed her onto the bed behind them. The hunger between her legs made her restless. Warrick soothed her with a touch. His broad palm stroked from her thigh to her waist and higher to her breast. He deepened their kiss as his long, talented fingers drew closer to her breast. Marilyn felt her nipple tighten in anticipation of his touch.

He played her body like a musical virtuoso, plucking and strumming her breasts until her hips swung in rhythm and her arousal pooled in her core.

Marilyn tore her lips free of his spell. “Rick, come inside me.”

“Soon.”

Warrick moved down her body, stopping at her left breast. He suckled her sensitive flesh. His tongue swirled around her areola and his lips nibbled at her nipple. Her fists pulled at the bedsheet when he lifted his head to treat her right breast to the same intense caresses. Marilyn moaned. Her body tossed and twisted beneath his weight. Muscles deep inside her pulsed with an almost painful pleasure.

“Please, Rick.” Marilyn’s voice was thin and unrecognizable. “I need you now.”

Warrick released her breast. “Soon.”

He breathed the word against her damp skin. Every muscle in Marilyn’s body strained.

Warrick moved lower. He kissed her hip bones and licked her navel. Marilyn’s hips lifted toward his chin, silently begging for this most intimate of kisses. Warrick touched her. She felt her moisture dampen his fingers.

“Are you ready for me?” He whispered the question against her curls.