Easy with You (With Me in Seattle 8.5)

“True enough.”

When the elevators arrive, she saunters in, leans her back against the far wall, and crooks her finger at me, inviting me to join her.

And who the fuck can resist that?

“You’re sexy,” I murmur and kiss her forehead. She plants her hands on my sides, gripping my shirt in her small fists. God, she’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a very long time, and not only is coming here with me out of character for her, it’s completely new to me too.

I don’t do one-night stands.

Fuck, I don’t date much.

Having a young daughter will do that to you.

“So are you.”

The elevator arrives on my floor. I escort her calmly to my room, open the door and motion for her to lead me inside. And as soon as the door closes, I grip her shoulders in my hands and spin her, pinning her back against the door with my body. I plant my hands on either side of her head and lean in, not kissing her. Not yet. Her eyes are wide, staring at my lips again, pulse thrumming, panting.

She’s so fucking sexy I can hardly breathe.

“I want to fuck you, Lila.”

“Oh good.” She swallows. “We’re on the same page. I want to fuck you too.”

“No, sweetheart.” I grin and lower my face beside hers. I’m not touching her, but I can feel her. Our skin is almost touching, and I know I’m making her crazy.

I’m making me fucking crazy.

“I’m going to fuck you.” I drag my nose along her earlobe and grin when she shivers. “But first, I think we could use something to cool us off.”

“Cool us off?” she whispers.

Without touching her, I back away, take her hand and walk to the small wet bar in my room, open a bottle of Patrón that one of the guys at the precinct gave me, slice a lime and reach for the salt shaker sitting on my room service tray from lunch, relieved that I forgot to set it in the hallway on my way out this afternoon.

“Have you ever done body shots?” I ask her. She’s watching me closely, her hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.

“No.” She shakes her head and bites her lip.

“Wanna do them with me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go first.” I pull her to me, her stomach against my pelvis, and push her hair over her shoulder. “Tip your head back, please.”

She complies, and I lick a short path down the side of her neck, making her breath catch. God, she’s so damn responsive. I shake a little salt on the wet spot, then lick it clean, take the shot, and suck on the lime.

Her eyes never leave me. I love that she’s not shy.

“My turn,” she says as she unbuttons my shirt and pushes it aside. She stands on her tiptoes and licks right under my collarbone, as that’s as high as she can reach, then repeats the process, making me even harder at the feel of her sweet lips and tongue on my skin.

When she’s done, I turn her around and lick down the back of her neck, her shoulder, and pull the strap of her dress down her arm, drag my fingertips over her skin, making her shiver again. After I take the shot, she holds the lime up to my lips, offering it over her shoulder.

This is fucking sexy as hell.

One more. One more for her then I’m getting her naked. I can’t stand it.

She motions for me to lean back on the counter, giving her access to my stomach, and proceeds to drive me out of my fucking mind with that sweet mouth of hers. When she takes the lime from my fingers, I lean in and pull it out of her mouth with my teeth and spit it in the nearby sink, then take her face in my hands and lower my mouth to hers, finally kissing her the way I’ve been needing to.

She tastes like lime and tequila and pure heaven, and the next thing I know, we’re stripping out of our clothes, leaving a trail to the bed. I lay her on her back. She’s only wearing a scrap of black underwear.

And a come-hither smile that would tempt any saint.

Rather than covering her body with mine, I drag my hands down her torso, from her shoulders, over her breasts, her ribs, and hips. And I grip onto her panties with my teeth and pull them down her legs, then toss them over my shoulder and spread her legs wide.

“Fuck, Lila. You are gorgeous.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says breathlessly. “Can I touch you now? You’re really far away.”

“Not yet.”

“But I’m tingly.”

I smile up at her. “Tingly?”

“Mmm,” she nods and closes her eyes as my fingertips glide up and down her inner thighs. “Your lips on my neck made me all tingly.”

“Did the tequila help?” I ask dryly.

“Didn’t need the tequila.” She gasps as my fingertip finds her pink lips. She’s shaved clean and wet as fuck.

“I’m going to tease you a bit,” I murmur and push my finger inside her, then pull it out and push it through her folds, up to her clit and back down again, making a circle over and over. Her hands grip the sheets at her hips and the muscles in her thighs tighten.

“Asher,” she groans. “Seriously.”

“Seriously what?”

God, she is wet. And tight. And she’s going to feel like heaven when I finally slide inside her.

“Seriously, fuck me!”

I don’t need any further invitation. I lean in and latch on to her clit, pulling it into my mouth and sucking hard as I fuck her with my fingers. She jackknifes up, coming amazingly, crying out. Her hands latch onto my hair as she grinds her pussy against my mouth, riding out her orgasm.

Finally, she lets go, and I travel up her amazing body, leaving wet kisses on her torso, her nipples, her neck. I scoot her further up the bed and reach for a condom, quickly cover myself and kiss her hard as the head of my cock rests at her opening. She raises her legs, hitching them around my hips, but I pull them even higher, brace them on my shoulders, and push inside her, all the way.

“Oh. My. God.” Her eyes close. Her hands grip onto my arms.

“Open your eyes,” I command her and begin to move, slowly at first, as she watches me, her eyes glassy, not from the alcohol now, but from pure, unadulterated lust. My hips pick up speed. My pelvic bone hits her clit with every thrust, and I have to brace myself on the headboard for leverage.

She reaches down and presses her fingertips to her clit, making me almost fucking lose it. There is nothing hotter than watching a woman touch herself.

Unless you’re fucking her while she touches herself.

She clenches around me, hard, bites her lip, and I know she’s about to come. Jesus, I’m going to come with her.

“Harder,” she whispers, and I gladly comply, pushing and pulling faster, a bit harder, and suddenly, the bed… falls.

Our gazes collide, but I don’t stop.

A fucking tsunami couldn’t stop me now.

I simply shift so we don’t fall, holding her in place with my free arm.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Gonna come.”

“That’s right, Lila. Come for me,” I croon to her, on the edge myself. “Come with me.”

She comes apart, squeezing me so tight I have no choice but to follow her right over the edge. I collapse on top of her, panting, sweating, and already thinking about round two when she starts to giggle beneath me.

“We broke the bed,” she says and pushes her fingers into the hair at the back of my neck.

I grin and press my lips to her cheek. “We did.”

She starts to laugh in earnest now. “We seriously broke the bed.”

I push away from her and brush a piece of hair off her cheek. “Looks like it.”

“Right on.” She holds her fist up and I bump it with mine. “Good job.”

I smirk and roll us onto the floor, dragging the blankets with us. “Let’s try for amazing job.”

Chapter One

~Lila~

“Do you have a minute, Lila?”

I glance up from the essay on Harriet Tubman that has me riveted. The student who wrote this paper did her research and clearly loves the topic. Standing in the doorway of my office is the dean of my department at Tulane University, Rick Wilson.

“Of course.” I smile politely and gesture to the chair across from me. “Have a seat.”

Rick, who is usually a happy, cheerful man, is sober today as he lowers into the chair. He leans forward and takes a deep breath, and I’m afraid I already know what he’s going to say.

Don’t say it.

“I don’t think there’s an easy way to tell you this, Lila.”

I shake my head and close my eyes. “Who is it?”

He sighs, and I open my eyes to find him rubbing his mouth with his fingers in agitation. “Leslie Fisher.”

My heart sinks as I think of the sweet, blonde girl in my Women’s History class. “What happened to her?”

“The same as the other two.” He sighs again and stares at me with sad eyes. “She was raped and beaten, left for dead.”

My head whips up. “She’s not dead?”

“She wasn’t when they found her. She was taken to the hospital, but I don’t have an update.”

He didn’t kill her!

“Maybe she’ll be able to tell the police who did this.” Tears fill my eyes at the horror that my student must have gone through. “Three in one month, Rick.”