Page 81 of Waiting for Her

Busted.

“You were waiting for me?”

I say nothing.

He leans back on his haunches, still straddling my legs. “Mia called you. Again.”

My lips are sealed.

“So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone. “You two are going to start ganging up on me? She’s suddenly on your side?”

His words say he’s annoyed.

The smile I see in his eyes tells me otherwise.

I shrug my shoulders, reach down to the hem of my tank top and lift.

He settles back, a hand covering his mouth as he shamelessly stares down at me.

“God, Bri. I thought you were beautiful then. It’s nothing compared to now.”

He moves so he’s stretched out beside me, palm resting on my stomach. He leans over, kisses me just above my belly button, then his tongue and lips battle to see which can make a sexier trail up to my neck. Grady nudges me with his forehead, forcing my head to turn to the side to give him better access.

The feel of his nose joining the sexy trail race is enough to make my stomach quiver. I twist under him, pressing my center against him, desperate for any way to help relieve the pressure that’s already building.

A strong hand to my hip lets me know I’m not to be heading intothatterritory without him.

“I got you. Have patience.” I feel his smile against my skin. “Fuck you smell good,” he groans.

“You’re still too clothed,” I whine as my fingers claw at his shirt. He reaches behind him and shucks it off, throwing it across the room. I squeal and barely stop myself from clapping like I’m in a private showing of aMagic Mikeshow.

“Approve?”

“Uh, yeah! Is it weird if I say that you’re sexy? It’s weird, right?”

“Hell no, it’s not weird.”

I can’t decide what’s blooming larger in my chest.

Hope.

Love.

Horniness?

As I watch him finish the job my hands didn’t complete earlier with his shorts, leaving him in only a simple pair of dark gray boxer briefs, I realize the third feeling is absolutely the largest.

Good. Golly. Miss. Molly.

“Did I say sexy?” I whimper as my eyes file away every dip and groove in his stomach—all twelve of them plus the bonus triangles above the waistband of his boxers. “Sexy is a disservice to the word that should be used for you.” I buck, wanting him on his back. I need more time to explore, and I can’t do it with the angle I’m at.

He takes the hint and rolls over, taking me with him.

Now it’s my turn to make the sexy trail. I don’t know which was more fun. Receiving or giving.

When he crosses his arms behind his head, letting the muscles in his chest and shoulders bulge, I have my answer.

I take my time, making up for the past six years our bodies have missed each other. I start at his mouth, nibbling on his lower lip before trailing my tongue along his jawline. He unhooks his arms from behind his head, his strong hands rubbing up and down my upper body. When I begin sucking gently on his neck, he grips the flesh of my butt and groans loudly.

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