Page 31 of Full Coverage (Boys of Fall)

He was solid. Not huge, but hard and toned, and Randi took her time smoothing her hands over his pecs and shoulders, down his sides and across his abs. The muscles bunched under her touch, and she lifted her gaze to see him watching her with a hot gaze, his jaw tight.

Not taking her eyes from his, she reached for a lime and lifted it to his lips. “Open up,” she said softly.

He did, and she put the lime between his teeth. His bit down gently, holding it in place.

Randi leaned in and put her nose and lips against his throat. She inhaled deeply of the scent of his soap and hot, turned-on man. Then she licked, drawing a wet path over his skin. A groan rumbled underneath her tongue, and she smiled as she sat back and shook salt over the area. Then she unscrewed the top of the tequila.

Nolan just watched, but she felt his reaction in his grip on her hips, in the hard cock under her, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

She tipped the bottle, letting a thin line of liquor dribble onto his collarbone and run down over his left pec. She watched the liquid as it wound its way over the bumps of his abs to the waistband of his jeans.

He was in jeans tonight. Hallelujah.

She bent her head and licked the salt from his neck, again relishing his low groan, then scooted back on his lap, going to her knees between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs and she felt them bunch in reaction—or anticipation—as well.

The first touch of her tongue to his lower abs and his hand went to her head, his fingers bunching in her hair. She loved when guys did that.

Randi ran her tongue along the top of his waistband, loving how his fingers tightened. Then she traced the line of tequila back up his torso, slowly and thoroughly removing the tequila. She licked up the side of his neck, along the underside of his jaw, and then came to meet his mouth and the lime.

She bit into it, sucking the juice out.

Nolan released the wedge, and the next moment, Randi found herself flipped onto her back.

“My turn.”

He kissed her deeply, then pulled back to replace his lips with a lime. Randi held it between her teeth, her whole body hot, need coiling deep. But Nolan decided to improvise and he reached under her to unhook her bra. The deep red lace was quickly whisked away, leaving her bare from the waist up. Nolan seemed to drink in the sight of her, then he leaned in and licked her right nipple.

Randi gasped, but as quickly as the touch had been there, it was gone, and he was shaking salt over her hardened tip. Then he slid down her body. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her matching red panties showing, but Nolan stopped at her belly button, tipping the bottle over her stomach. The clear liquid spilled over, sliding down her side to the cushion below. Her oversensitive skin felt every millimeter the tequila touched.

Nolan gave her a wicked smile. “Now what order is it again?” His eyes fastened on her nipple. “Oh, yeah.” He bent his head and licked the salt from the hard tip, but then he sucked gently, then harder as she cried out.

She arched closer, panting, her legs spread with his hard body between them. He slid down again and put his mouth against her stomach, sucking the tequila up and then following the trail where it had spilled down the side with his tongue. He licked his way back up, clearly not caring there was no tequila on the skin over her ribs or between her breasts, or on her left nipple.

By the time he slid up and took the lime from her teeth, Randi was on fire.

Nolan sucked the lime wedge, then tossed it over his shoulder, leaning in to take her mouth in a margarita-flavored kiss that definitely went straight to her head.

His hand cupped her breast, playing with the tip, rolling and tugging while she grew wetter and needier.

“Nolan,” she moaned, when he moved his mouth from hers to her nipple again. “Please.”

“Okay,” he told her agreeably. Before sliding his hands under her skirt and stripping her panties off of her.

She still had her shoes on—red heels that happened to match her underwear, which did, incidentally, match the tiny red flowers on her skirt. She started to try to pry the back strap down her heel with the toe of her other foot, but Nolan’s big hand stopped her.

“Leave them on.”

Right, he liked her in heels.

“Skirt?” she asked, lifting her hips so he could pull it down too.

His eyes weren’t exactly focused on her skirt, but they were paying attention to the general vicinity. “It stays too.”

The pretty floral skirt was a perfect example of the feminine way she liked to dress when she wasn’t at the shop. She always got a kick out of the guys who would treat her like a buddy at the shop, including swearing and talking about their latest lay, but then held doors and watched their mouths around her when she was in a dress.

Now that pretty skirt was bunched around her waist and everything below that was completely exposed to Nolan. Keeping her skirt and shoes on felt strangely naughty, and she wiggled against the cushion. “Nolan.”

“I know, Ladybug.”

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