Page 13 of True Fate

Instead of soothing her, he laughed softly, his mouth stalling at the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Sucking her skin between his teeth, he whispered, “That comment about the shower, is it true?”

“If you touch my breast—what is that, second base?—I’ll tell all.”

He laughed, his hand sliding along her ribs to her breast, cupping, his thumb tormenting her nipple in deliberate, agonizing circles. Teasing her, he ground his cock against her pussy until colors that matched the ones going off in the sky pinwheeled behind her eyelids.

Incredibly, because it had never been easy for her, she felt an orgasm building.

“Is it true?” he whispered, flipping two buttons open at the neckline of her dress and pressing his lips to her collarbone. She wanted to connect the dots, guide his beautiful mouth to the axis point now pulsing beneath his thumb.

Shelovedhaving her nipples sucked.

“And if it was true,” he murmured against her skin, “did you think of me?”

“You, me. The drafting table in your house. You standing, me sitting on top. Boom. Three minutes. Maybe less.”

She felt his sigh in the scalding breath that skated across her skin—hot as the burning end of a match. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But I’ll die happy if this is what a blissful end feels like.”

chaptersix

Doll Parts–Hole

JUSTIN

In the far reaches ofhis mind, Justin realized that his uncertainty about getting involved with Lainey had been completely swallowed by desire. Vulnerability, something he’d never felt with another woman, had been overtaken by need.

Overwhelming, undeniable need.

Laughter and voices echoed in the distance, a group calling to one another as they passed.

Stepping back, he let her slide slowly down his body. “Let’s go.”

She clung to him even after her feet touched the ground, her smoky gaze searching his. “Where?”

Leaning in for one last kiss, he whispered, “My house is close. And there’s still the matter of that drafting table.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and Justin worked hard to hide his smile. She’d been afraid he was going to refuse her. He might be twisted up over the past—tied in an impeccably loathsome emotional knot—but he wasn’tthattroubled.

Glancing over his shoulder, he pulled her into the night, never once thinking of letting her go. They exchanged no words during the three-block walk, their pace somewhere between a New York stride and a racehorse’s sprint. The heat between them shimmered—pure, rich, and exactly as he remembered.

And just as potent.

He wondered what it was about her that wormed past his defenses to settle, dogged and unshakable, beneath his skin. Maybe it was that she’d seen him at his most exposed. Bruised by his father’s cruelty, tangled up inside.

And she’d loved him anyway.

Her own family life had been challenging, to say the least, and he suspected they understood each other in ways he hadn’t yet fully grasped—let alone felt—with anyone outside his brothers.

He halted in front of his house, watching the moonlight play across her face, crystal bursts catching in her hair and glinting in her steel-gray eyes. “You’re beautiful, Lainey Prescott. More, even, than in my dreams. I’ve wanted this,you, for so damned long, I’m almost scared to believe it’s finally happening.”

A serene, certain smile curved her lips.

Without a word, she took his hand and led him home.

Patience gone, he shoved her against the door as it clicked shut behind them. “I’m not promising to be gentle,” he whispered into the curve of her neck.

“Take this off,” she said, fumbling with his shirt. “Off.”

They backed across the foyer, stumbling in their rush to stay connected and strip at the same time. His loafers, jeans, and T-shirt hit the floor. Lainey braced against the wall and wiggled out of her dress, his eyes tracking every movement as it pooled at her feet. The black lace bra and matching thong were new, expensive—and worth every penny when his expression shifted from calm to crazed in a flash.

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