Caramel Flava

“How? Who?”

Lips turned up at the corners. “They like the military in airports.”

She looked at him blankly.

“I told them I’m with the military.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. Do you doubt me? Do you doubt what I am capable of?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I—”

“Don’t know what I want?”

“Yes.” She couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice. Every fiber of her body screamed for him to touch her, but her mind, now that it was faced with the moment, was a little scared.

“It didn’t stop you earlier.”

Her body wouldn’t let her betray this need. She leaned toward him, wanting this gorgeous man, and she was getting closer to him by the second.

The next words bathed his chin. “Your—”

“Name is—”

“Isa.” She could hear the quake in her voice. Damn, she hated that she sounded scared.

“Rafael.” His tongue tripped over the syllables like a licking caressing. “You have skin like milk.”

“Oh.” Her mouth opened wider, and his descended.

All thought disappeared as his tongue touched hers. It teased, tickling the tip and tantalizing the length. Slowly he stroked her tongue until she moved beneath him.

Her mouth stroked, wanting to drink from his mouth as he did hers. The fingers, so carefully manicured hours earlier, dug into his shirt and pulled.

He made a sound and drew back from her.

Her eyes flew open, though she couldn’t have told you when she closed them. The arched line of her eyebrows drew together and she knew she was making that face, the unhappy, stressed one she so desperately sought to eradicate.

A smile played over his lips. He leaned in and kissed between her eyebrows and the wrinkles faded into relaxation. “Yes, my red-haired beauty. I shall make everything better.”

Sugar and butter, her mind mulled. Skin so hot, like savory, creamy caramel.

“Will you allow me?”

“Yes.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. But as his hands started unbuttoning her blouse, she wasn’t sure she could stop.

Clothes seemed to strip away in a blink of an eye until she was standing there naked. Hands ran over her. Instead of making her feel bare, the caresses made her feel beautiful, sexy and desired.

As his hands grazed the inside of her thighs, she parted her legs wider and his fingers found her. She sighed as he rubbed her clit.

Lust pushed away the lull of the steady stroke as she pushed herself toward him. “My greedy redhead. Did you know there is a vine which bears grapes called Isabella? Do you need to be picked, my Isa, my beauty?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper. She wanted him. Yet somehow, she still felt disconnected.

“Open your eyes.”

She did. Responding immediately to the command in his voice.