Page 67 of Firecracker

She whimpered.

“I’ll worship you.” He rubbed his beard stubble against her jaw, nipped at her ear lobe. “I’ll pleasure this gorgeous body. I’ll make you feel so good, baby. Let me.”

Her eyes fell closed at the onslaught of sensations his words brought on. “This isn’t really happening.”

“You feel it. You want it.” He licked over her bottom lip. “If I slid my hand inside those little panties, what will I find?”

She squeezed her inner thighs, knowing without a doubt what he would find.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, hands smoothing down her back and cupping her ass again. “Because I’m hard as a fucking fire hydrant.”

She made a choked noise of amusement and lust. “Hopefully not as big.”

His lips twitched as he squeezed her cheeks. “Close.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, filled with an undeniable need to laugh despite the heat that flowed through her veins. “Now you’re scaring me.”

With a hoarse laugh, he lifted her head, bringing her closer still, his hand pulling her thigh higher over his lap, and she felt his erection behind the thin fabric of his boxers. Hard, throbbing heat tantalized her, and she rubbed her knee against it. A growl escaped his mouth as he captured hers in another searing kiss.

They strained together, desperate, hands all over each other, mouths sliding, tongues gliding. She’d never wanted so much in her life. And she’d neverfeltso wanted—so consumed, socraved. It was as fierce and beautiful as the storm outside, sensation spiraling through her, light, heat, sparks, and crashing pleasure. It twisted higher inside her as she rubbed herself against him.

He cupped her breast through her nightie, and pleasure jolted through her. She pushed into his palm in yearning supplication. He found her nipple with thumb and fingertips and pinched. She felt that deep inside her, and the coiling pleasure shot up. “Oh God,” she gasped, her entire body clenching, sparks shooting from her core to her toes and fingertips. She shuddered against him.

“Christ, Arden.” He held her as she pulsed and pulsed, helpless noises falling from her lips.

“Oh my God.” She dropped her head to his chest, quivering.

He rubbed her back in circles as she caught her breath. Her face burning, she kept her eyes squeezed closed. She couldn’t believe that had just happened.

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly a moment later.

“For what? For having an orgasm?”

“Yes.”

He lifted her face with the same motions he had earlier—hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing her lips. “An orgasm is nothing to apologize for. I wanted you to feel good. I wanted you to have that. I might have done it differently, mind you…I want to use my fingers on you. Or my tongue, so I can taste you and feel you come on my face.”

“Oh God.” She wanted to slide into a pool of lust and misery on the floor at his feet.

“What?” He slid his thumb inside her mouth briefly, his eyes fastened on hers. Her belly did a warm flip. “What’s wrong with telling you what I want?”

“We aren’t…we can’t…this is crazy.”

“Why?” His eyebrows pulled together. “Just tell me why.”

“Because…” She stopped. It all sounded so feeble. Tyler was in no way the boy he’d been when she’d last known him. He was a man, there was no doubt about that—a man who knew how to kiss, a man who knew how to touch her in ways that lit her on fire and melted her inside...a man who wanted her.

She swallowed. “You’re Jamie’s friend.”

“This has nothing to do with Jamie.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

His eyebrows notched together even more. “Are you still in love with your husband?”

She sucked in a breath, staring at him, her eyes going wide at his blunt question. She considered how to answer that. If she told him she was, he would end this. She didn’t know him well, but somehow she knew he was honorable that way—he would never force her to do something she wasn’t ready for.

But that would be a lie. And a man like Tyler deserved honesty.

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