Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

“Yes.” Somehow he knew, even before I reached for him, and that yes was all the permission I needed to pull him closer, our chests brushing. He was perfectly still as if holding his breath, waiting for my move. I didn’t have a ton of practice initiating a kiss, which was probably obvious, the way I leaned in with an all-wrong angle and had to retreat and try again. I brushed my lips across his. It wasn’t the sexiest of kisses. I knew that, and still, Danny gasped like I’d given him a wrapped present.

“I can do better,” I promised in a whisper.

“Better’s gonna kill me.” He laughed shakily right before I claimed his mouth. His lips were still curved from his laugh, and it was like tasting a sunbeam, hot and light at the same time, molten energy streaming out to every part of my body.

I needed more right that minute, but apparently, he was leaving more up to me. Almost like the yoga teacher had placed him in a statue pose, he stayed still on his side, not taking pity on my lack of game. Desperate to get this right, I slid my mouth along his, little sips, and when I sucked on his lower lip, he gasped again.

Good. I was onto something here. I did it again. And again until my tongue found some primitive instinct, delving deep. Our tongues rubbed, and I was the one to gasp.

“Oh.” Even my exhale felt fiery, every cell I had ablaze.

“Do it again,” he commanded. Like I could turn that down. I kissed him again, blood surging, pulse-pounding. Deeper. Longer. I couldn’t get enough, and I wanted to try everything, all at once.

And everything I tried worked. Flicks of my tongue had him writhing against me. Sucking on his tongue made him cling to my shoulders. Soft kisses made him sigh and hard kisses made him moan, and I loved every damn second. No way could my imagination have prepared me for any of this—his sweet taste, the dig of his fingers on my shoulder blades, the way my heart revved like I’d chugged three energy drinks and was still thirsty.

“More,” I growled, and it was like I’d flipped a switch in Daniel. He kissed me back hard, meeting my desperate need with his own. And then his tongue was the one in my mouth, and fuck. That was a whole new level of sexy, him taking charge of the kiss, then retreating, inviting me to be as aggressive in return.

“Yes.” Eyes shut, his head tipped back on a moan, and I couldn’t resist pressing kisses to his sharp jaw and slim neck. Unlike me, he shaved, and the faint bristle against my tongue was both unexpected and wildly exciting. My pulse pounded in my ears.

“More.” He was the one to say it now. He shoved me to my back, and I went willingly, taking him with me. His low noise of approval made my stomach tremble. And then he upped the ante, throwing a leg over me. We were tightly pressed together, his chest resting against mine, stomachs aligned. I could feel his every exhale as we kissed again.

And lower, his strong thighs pushed against mine. His…oh fuck. Our cocks were aligned too. And even through layers of fabric, there was no mistaking he was as hard as I was. Hard. Fuck. A hard cock was touching mine, and then he rocked, a subtle movement of that ridiculously flexible spine of his, pushing him right against my—

“Fuck.” I gritted my teeth, but it was too much. White-hot pleasure surged through me. I was powerless to stop it, kissing him deeper, holding him closer as something ripped through me. I’d come before, plenty of times. This was something far more devastating than an ordinary orgasm. More like the fabric of my universe shifted, entire new galaxies revealed. I was coming all right, coming into myself and coming with him simultaneously in the most unexpected, weirdly wonderful way possible. I was only vaguely aware of him bucking against me, and I held him tighter until he buried his face in my neck.

“Oh my fucking God.” Completely boneless, way more so than after the yoga that was for damn sure, I could barely get enough oxygen to speak. I rested my cheek against the top of his silky hair. I had no fucking clue if I was supposed to praise him or apologize.

“Well.” His laugh tickled the thin skin where my neck and shoulder met at the collar of my T-shirt. “That was kind of sudden.”

“Yeah. Um. Do you…should I…fuck. Sorry.” I ended up erring on the apology side after all.

“Don’t be sorry.” He raised his head enough to give me a feline grin. “You having the shortest fuse ever was the sexiest fucking thing, and you took me right along for the ride.”