Burned Hearts (Burned 3)
“Baby, I have a better idea for this phone conversation.”
My grin widened. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” I heard the rustling of crisp sheets on his end.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Just fine.” He paused a moment. When he spoke again, wickedness dripped from his sensual tone. “Where are you?”
“In bed.”
“Me, too.”
“Sucks that they’re two different beds.”
“I agree.”
“And I don’t even know where your bed is located,” I said.
“That’s why they call it witness protection.”
“I wish you were here.”
He was quiet again.
I sighed. “Dane.”
“I’ve told you before. You have no idea how much I miss you.”
“Tell me again. Better yet…” I stretched out, under the covers. “Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here right now.”
“One thing I’ve missed doing. Not that I’m complaining. I can curb my tendencies. I definitely love you pregnant.”
“Sure, what’s not to love with this belly?”
He chuckled. “You’re damn sexy. What Dr. Preston advised against for precautionary reasons is right at the top of my list of things I want to do to you.”
“Ah, that. I adore that.” I felt the wetness pool.
“I love dragging your panties down your legs, spreading your thighs, nipping at those spots on the inside that make you squirm and let out little gasps.”
One escaped my lips now. “When you’re between my legs—”
“When my head is between your legs,” he corrected.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Unbelievably amazing.”
“You have the most enticing little pink parts,” he mused in his intimate bedroom voice. “I like to glide my fingertips over your soft, slick lips. Back and forth, lightly. Then sweep my tongue over the tight, moist folds. Tug gently with my mouth.”
My little gasp turned into a throaty moan.
“You like it when I do that to you, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” I murmured as excitement rippled through me. “You are so good. At everything.”
“I get turned on just thinking about you. Whether you’re naked or not.” His voice lowered. It made my nipples tingle. “But when my tongue is sliding along your pussy lips and then the tip is flicking slowly over your clit—”
“Lightly,” I whispered. “Like butterfly wings.”