Page 64 of Impossible Love

I gasp, pretending to be insulted. It’s good he can’t see me smiling like an idiot.

“Listen, sailor boy, I stepped into the pantry to look for more paper towels. You followed me in there. So let’s get this straight—I didn’t beg you to fuck me in the pantry specifically. It’s just where I happened to be when I began begging for more.”

“You were naked, Victoria. What did you expect from me? I’m only human.”

I feel his laugh rumble through his chest, vibrating against my back and down my spine. It’s a delicious sensation, one of many I’ve experienced with Cal in this hotel suite.

My smile widens, because that about sums it up for me—naked and begging. And damn happy about it.

This wild sensual ride started in the private elevator, where the heat and desire pulsed off Cal in waves. It has since continued in nearly every corner of the penthouse suite—bathrooms, the kitchen, two of the four bedrooms, the living room, theater room, dining room, billiard room, and—it’s true—the pantry.

If the weather would have cooperated, I have no doubt the balcony would have found a spot on that list.

I’ve had more sex in the last twelve hours than in the last year. It’s better than anything I’ve experienced since I lost my virginity at age eighteen. And if that hard poke at the base of my spine is any indication, we’re not done yet.

“Baby, I want you to spread your legs for me. Put the backs of your thighs on the tops of mine. I want to play with you some more.”

I don’t even hesitate. I do as I’m told—which is fucking bizarre. I never do what a man tells me to do, not when it comes to sex or business or anything, really.

As a rule, I do what I want.

And I sure as hell never go all brainless and braless for a man I barely know.

So why is Cal MacLaine the exception? Why is he always the exception?

As I press my palms on top of his rock-hard quads and ease myself a few inches out of the water, I think about the ingredients that go into this man’s secret sauce, because he’s absolutely got one. It’s so irresistible that it deserves its own patent.

Equal parts rough and romantic.

Serious but funny.

Way too bossy while somehow generous and kind.

I’ve never known a man like Cal. I don’t think there’s another one like him. And in my heart, I know I’m in deep, deep trouble.

Cal MacLaine is what I’ve always wanted but never thought I’d find.

But why—why—did I have to find him on a ranch in the middle of Bumfuck, Nevada?

I forget that annoying detail when he cups my pussy in his palm. I can’t get over how big he is—everywhere. His hand seems huge compared to my pussy, and his thick middle finger pushes in and spreads me open. His fingers find my clitoris, and he strokes me, circling the swollen tip tighter and tighter until I’m barely hanging on.

My head suddenly feels too heavy, and it falls back against his solid chest. He brings his lips to my ear, his breath hot against my face.

“That little clit of yours gets so hard, baby, and it’s so sweet when I suck on it.”

My breath is coming faster. I feel myself rolling my hips into his hand, wanting more. He makes me insane. He makes me forget everything and everyone else. Nothing exists but his hands on me. His mouth on me. His cock in me.

Cal raises his free hand to one of my nipples. He pulls, flicks, and pinches it, then moves to the other. He tortures my breasts while his hand stays busy on my clit.

I let out a groan of pleasure just as he slides one finger, then two, up inside me.

“I’m going to cum.”

“You like when I play with you, don’t you?”

“You know I do.”

“You’re right. I know. But tell me—which do you prefer? When I tease your clit like this?”

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