Page 60 of Doing It for Love

I’m so deep in chocolate that I don’t notice that his kisses feel weird. The tongue that traces the valley of my lips is too soft. Squishy. Actually, his whole body is. I open my eyes and it’s Landon. It’s him, but it doesn’t feel like him.

“Come here,” he says, flipping me over. His hands grab my ass, igniting a fire low in my belly as he guides me on top of him. He feels harder now. He’s much harder now that I’m on top. I grind into him, finally relieving some of the pleasure pains.

“Ohmy—”

“Liz…”

“Yes.Yes!”

“Liz…”

“Landon…”

“Liz…you need to wake up.”

Iamawake. Oh my, am I awake.

“Damn it, Liz!”

My eyes snap open. The room is dark, the bedspread a crumpled heap between my legs. Once my eyes adjust I notice the way I’m wrapped around Landon, clutching at his shirt, breathing hard into the crook of his neck.

He gives me a strained grin. “Even your unconscious mind wants me.”

I drop my gaze to his boxers, a wet bead near the push of his erection against the material. Slowly, I shift my legs, gently peel my sweaty body away from his, and let out a large breath.

“I’m…I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

I sit up and grab at a pillow, but a hand locks around my wrist.

“What? You can’t leave me like this.”

“I have to.”

He sits up, too. His eyebrows knit together like I’m joking. “Then stay and talk him down. It’s your fault he’s awake.”

“It’syourfault I woke him up.”

“How the hell is this my fault?”

“You know exactly why it’s your fault.” I rip my hand away, flustered and hot and needing space before I leap on him and ride out the stress. “You were all hump talking before.”

“Hump talking?”

“About the accidental slip. And the humping.”

“I didn’t say anything about humping.”

Yes he did!“You said the word ‘thrust.’ ”

He grabs at his hair, and I can’t look at him because even that is turning me on.

“You’re seriously leaving?” he asks.

“If you don’t want me to, then stop me.” I drop the pillow, knowing full well that the nips are up and ready. He pulls at his hair again.

“Damn it, you’re not playing fair!”

“You’re not either!” Him and his cleaning the house and rocking the risky business and talking about thrusting, so much thrusting, and never wearing a shirt or wearing the shirts that are completely awesome on his body, and I can’t look at him without getting frustrated.

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