Page 93 of Passionate Defense

Yes, she was. Looking down at her plate, she was surprised to see she’d eaten two slices of the vanilla-and-cinnamon infused toast soaked in syrup, several strips of bacon, and drank all her juice. She glanced up to find Ethan observing her, a hint of amusement in his beard-darkened face.

“You’re a miracle worker. I usually can’t eat in the days leading up to a trial.”

He winked at her as he munched on a crispy piece of bacon. “We’ll need to make this part of your pretrial prep, then.”

Pleasantly full, she sat back, smiling as she watched Ethan easily put away double her portions. At forty-two, he was as fit as a man fifteen years younger, with hardly an ounce of body fat, which was amazing considering his appetite. He ate what he wanted, but it never seemed to catch up with him.

Her eyes traveled over his upper body. His chest was firm and well defined, strong shoulders, with rippling biceps and forearms. Not a body-builder type of bulge but leaner and more subtle...yummy. She picked up a strawberry and sucked on the end as he rose and gathered their plates.

“More?” he asked as he carried them to the kitchen.

Lanie’s eyes skimmed over his back and down to his perfect ass. It was toned from running but fleshy enough to dig her heels into while he was pumping inside her. As usual, thoughts of her husband’s gorgeous body had her squirming in her seat.

“Lanie?”

Her eyes shifted to see him standing in the doorway. The amused look on his face said he’d caught her gawking.

“No thanks, I’m stuffed. It was wonderful, Ethan.”

He nodded as he left the room.

She heard him moving around in the kitchen. The water turned on and she could hear him loading the dishwasher. He helped around the house, which she found intensely attractive, especially since he did it in shorts or lounge pantsau naturalunderneath. The image of the material molding to his ass as he bent to load the dishwasher popped into her head and a wicked idea followed.

Moving quickly around the table to his spot, she pushed aside his place setting. Perching her ass where his place mat had been, she parted her robe and lay back on the table. As she settled in, the pepper mill poked into her side and her elbow smacked against the fruit bowl. She rolled to clear a larger space when she spied the syrup bottle. Finding it still warm, she had a wonderfully naughty idea. Lying back, she parted her thighs and bent her knees, balancing her heels on the edge of the table. Her final preparation was drizzling syrup over her nipples and in a thin line down her belly.

“Babe. More coffee?” he called to her.

“Yes, please.” She didn’t want more. One cup was her limit, but she needed to make sure he returned to the dining room before the syrup dripped into other places, and before she lost her nerve.

“One other thought occurred to me about your case—” As he walked in, he stopped dead in his tracks. Slack-jawed with wonder, he did a slow scan. No. Slow didn’t do it justice. He made a long, lingering perusal of her from head to toe.

Setting the coffeepot on the sideboard, he approached with a huge grin.

“I thought you might like dessert,” Lanie whispered, more than ready to be the sweet course to cap off his meal.

Coming to stand between her thighs, he appeared speechless as his gaze followed the sticky trail of syrup. Although this was her idea, heat rushed to her face, spreading down her neck and over her chest at her daring. She quivered with anticipation as his hands glided up her calves and he pushed her thighs apart, spreading her to accommodate him. Bending to her, he lapped the sticky stuff from her nipple then followed the syrupy path to her belly. His tongue dipped into her navel, greedily partaking of the small pool that had formed.

When he moved lower, Lanie’s fingers speared into his wavy dark hair, fisting into the silky strands. She didn’t ease her grip until his face hovered over hers and he pinned her wrists to the table.

“I love your enthusiasm, baby. But at my age, I’d like to keep every strand.”

When she realized what he meant, and that she’d nearly snatched him bald, she flushed. “Sorry.”

He didn’t respond, except to redouble his efforts, sucking and nibbling and licking every drop of maple goodness off her body. The hum of his pleasure sent vibrations buzzing across her skin.

“Ethan,” she sighed longingly.

He rose with the syrup in hand. “I think you missed a spot.”

A chair scraped across the floor as he made himself comfortable between her legs. Holding the bottle high, he drizzled the syrup over her mound, letting it go where it may.

Her sighs turned into a throaty groan when he parted her with his thumbs and licked into her. That one taste seemed to make him ravenous, his lips searing her flesh and his mouth all but fused to hers as he gobbled up the sticky sweetness. After a few moments of devouring her, he lifted his head a fraction and growled, “The syrup is sweet, but you are so much sweeter. I could stay here forever. Diabetic coma be damned.”

Lanie’s delighted laugh was choked off as his tongue dove back inside for more. Shamelessly, she spread wider, giving him a clear path by bringing her knees to her chest. She wrapped her hands around them and hung on, as each stroke of his tongue carried her closer to climax. When Ethan slid down and licked her puckered ass, her muscles contracted fiercely, her back bowing off the table as she cried out to him.

“Please, I’m almost there, Ethan.”

“Come, Lanie. After you do, I’ll be inside you.”

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