Page 62 of Shifting Sands

“What are we doing?”

He pauses. Just for a second. His thumb traces patterns on my hip.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “But I don’t want to stop.”

His mouth finds mine then. The kiss is warm and insistent. Not rushed. Just slow-burning heat. The kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name.

I shift under him, letting him settle between my legs. The couch is narrow, but we fit.

His hands slide up under my shirt. His fingers trail over my ribs, and my breath stutters.

“I liked you better in my shirt,” he murmurs.

I smile against his mouth. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Seeing you in it this morning did things to me,” he says as his hand continues to slide up inch by inch.

I lift my arms and let him pull it over my head, pitching it behind him without looking. The look in his eyes when he seesme—hair messy, no makeup, bare-chested in the dim light—makes my whole body ache.

“Fuck, Brandee,” he breathes.

His mouth is everywhere—my collarbone, the curve of my shoulder, the swell of my chest. He takes his time, like he’s been waiting all day just to worship me with his tongue.

I tug at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He obliges shrugging out of the flannel and pulling the tee over his head in one fell swoop, the muscles in his arms flexing as he tosses it to the floor. I bite my lip and trail my fingertips down his chest to his abs, loving the way he shivers at my touch.

He brings his mouth to my throat and lays a kiss against my pulse. Before slamming his lips to mine. This kiss is much more intense.

When we disengage, he brings his eyes back to mine before sweeping them down my torso, like he’s memorizing every curve.

With a growl, he crawls down my body. Peppering kisses as he goes.

I writhe underneath him as he wraps a hand around one breast and kneads lightly.

“Gorgeous,” he mutters before sucking a nipple gently between his teeth.

I groan and run my fingers through his hair as he bites down gently. He gives the other breast the same attention before dropping his hands and running them up the inside of my thighs while continuing to nip at my skin.

He makes it to my belly button and runs his tongue around it.

“You taste so sweet,” he says as his lip skims the lacy material of my panties.

My hips rise in response, and I whimper in anticipation as he feeds a finger into the lace and tugs them down my legs. Hepresses a kiss into the dark curls at the top of my thighs, and my legs fall open, giving him unfettered access.

“Beautiful,” he whispers as he swipes his tongue across my core in one deliciously slow lick.

My breath catches, and I sink my fingers into the couch cushion beneath me.

He does it again, and I let out a tortured moan. I begin to circle my hips to meet his mouth as he tucks his hands under me and palms my ass, lifting me to him.

I bring my arms up over my head and clasp the arm of the couch to steady myself as he devours me like he’s a starving man and I’m his favorite meal.

He wraps his lips around my clit and sucks it deep as he finds my opening with his finger.

“Yes,” I cry and start to ride his face slowly.

He presses another finger inside, and I arch my back and buck against him wildly, moving faster and faster, riding his tongue.

I feel my muscles begin to contract as his thumb comes to my clit and rubs gentle circles over the bundle of nerves.

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