Offside (The Barker Triplets 1)

“Don’t do that,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Make that noise.”

“What noise?” She did it again and blushed, wishing he would give her some space.

“That’s the one.” His voice had just gone to another level of sexy and it hit her right between the legs.

He stepped even closer and she held her breath as his hand slowly crept up and cupped the side of her jaw. The ache she felt, deep down [i]there[i], was so intense—the friction unlike any she had ever experienced—that she might have moaned.

His smile deepened as he dipped his head.

Okay, she definitely moaned.

She couldn’t help herself and leaned into his touch. His eyes, his face—that damn smile—could charm the pants off anyone.

Or if she wasn’t careful an angel dress…off of her.

“I don’t think we should do this,” she whispered.

His breath tickled along her collarbone as he bent lower. So low that there was only a whisper between her mouth and his.

“Do what?”

“This,” she retorted, a little cheekily because he was starting to piss her off. What was it about Logan Forest that made grown women melt into nothing but a bunch of quivering lady parts?

“This?” he asked—his mouth now against the side of her neck. Right down there, right near the spot that would drive her crazy if he—sweet mother of Jesus.

He did.

She was half gone as he nuzzled her in [i]that [i]spot. Zing! The spot that was like a conduit of pleasure. A conduit of pleasure that led directly to her already aching lady parts.

“People are going to talk about us.”

“Let ‘em, talk,” he murmured against her lips.

And then Logan Forest kissed her until her head spun. Until all those quivering girlie parts were practically sitting up and begging for his touch.

She groaned as he tasted and teased while holding her against him so that she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to be anywhere other than where she was. In Logan’s arms.

Everything flew out of her head except the hard, warm man pressed against her. When he sucked on her bottom lip, she clasped her hands behind his neck and held him there. She didn’t want this to end. Ever.

Logan Forest knew how to kiss. Hell—that was an understatement. He was the God of kissing.

Her head swam—thankfully one of his hands was buried in her hair holding her steady- because she surely would have melted at his feet. And when his other hand slowly worked its way down her waist and settled on her hip, she couldn’t help herself. She pressed into him, breathing hard as she yanked her head back to drag much needed air into her lungs.

His mouth immediately worked its way lower, his tongue burning a wet path across her skin until he suckled her nipples right through the material of her dress. When he groaned and pushed her back against the wall. She did nothing. When he

held her in place with his hips and used one hand to lean over her so his other could slowly, carefully and with much finesse, free her breasts from her dress…she did nothing.

How could she? Watching the raw desire on his face, the way his eyes widened and then narrowed, the way his mouth hung open slightly, his tongue peeking through…his heavy breathing as her exposed nipples pebbled and hardened from the cool, night air.

All of it kept her riveted to him.

All of it made her want him more than ever. No man—not one single man that she’d been with—had ever gotten under her skin the way Logan Forest did.

A wicked smile claimed his mouth and she held her breath in anticipation as his mouth closed over her breast again. Skin on skin.