Page 61 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Closing my eyes, I dropped my chin and shook my head. “I wish I’d never said that. Sometimes I can be a real jerk.”
“No,” Angelina said. “I’ve never seen that. Iwas the jerk. I’m sorry for what I said about your wife leaving you. I had no right. I don’t know the first thing about marriage and having a family.”
I took a step closer, stretching out a hand to sweep her hair back from her shoulder and sliding it around to caress the nape of her neck.
“That’s not true. You’ve done more to make this house a home than I could ever do. You’ve made us feel like a real family—it never really felt that way with Anouk. It was like Skyla and Claire and I were just… in her way, you know? Like we were obstacles preventing her from doing what shereallywanted to be doing.”
I stopped, took a breath then reconnected with her eyes.
“When I was growing up, I didn’t really even know what a family was supposed to be like, which is why I think Anouk and I got married in the first place and stayed together as long as we did. I didn’t know there was anything better than what we had. Now I do. Because of you.”
As I spoke, Angelina’s chin tilted up, and her eyelids drifted lower, lower. Unless I was a complete dope—and the point was debatable—she wanted to be kissed. Byme.
There was no way I was going to turn down an invitation like that—not from this woman who’d so subtly but thoroughly worked her way into my heart.
Not when it was all I’d been fantasizing about for weeks. Well, notallI’d fantasized about. In my fantasies it started with kissing and turned into touching, tasting...
So much for keeping it professional.
Lowering my face to hers, I felt her soft breath strike my lips, and it was like a match to gasoline, lighting a fire in my veins from head to toe.
Her lips were even more lush and delicious than I’d imagined them to be. And she was even more sweetly passionate than I could have hoped.
Her hands came up to grip my shoulders then they were sliding up and down my arms in frantic, grabby motions that made me think she’d been wanting to touch me as much as I’d been wanting to touch her.
The busy little hands slid up to my neck and around it, sinking into my hair and gripping as if she was falling, and the strands were the only things keeping her from plunging to the bottom of a ravine.
I barely felt the slight sting. I was too swept up in the sensations rampaging through the rest of me. Heat, joy, desire. Pleasure so acute my skin felt like it was lighting up everywhere she touched it.
“Sully,” she whispered, and the sound of her voice was fierce and reckless, like she was so overcome with wanting me she didn’t know what to do with herself.
Yes.
I knew that desperate feeling—I was thepersonificationof that feeling.
After all these weeks of burning for her, of denying my feelings because they were inappropriate, unrequited,wrong, I would finally be allowed to turn my fantasies into reality.
Because theyweren’tunrequited. She wanted me, too. The woman of my dreams wanted me just as ferociously as I wanted her.
Cradling her small face in my hands, I covered it with kisses, lingering on her pillowy soft lips once more before moving to her neck, that sweet, unbelievably pretty neck I’d daydreamed about kissing every time she wore her hair up.
God, I wanted her so badly it literally hurt, wantedallof her at once.
As my lips coasted from her neck to her collarbone and my hands twisted in the skirts of her dress, I disciplined myself to slow down. Iwouldhave all of her—in time. We were inevitable.
For now, I nibbled when I wanted to devour, browsed when I wanted to buy out the whole store. Wrapping an arm around her lower back, I drew her against me, but I kept my kisses gentle and my hands confined to safe territory, stroking her back and gripping her waist.
Only when Angelina was writhing against me and making the most desperate sounds into my mouth did I allow myself to touch her in the way I was craving.
My hand, which had stayed obediently in the vicinity of her waist and back, slid up to curve beneath her breast, andfuck medid that feel good.
Angelina seemed to like it, too—a lot. Which only made me more ravenous. Shaking with adrenaline, I pushed one strap from her shoulder while kissing her throat and upper chest.
When I slipped my hand inside the dress, I discovered she wore no bra with it. Her nipple tightened into a perfect bud under my touch, and it took all my strength not to rip the whole dress off then and there.
Angelina shivered and gripped my bicep with one hand, her short nails digging into the skin while her other hand caressed my nape and scalp. She moaned softly, a sound so thick with pleasure and desire I could come just from listening to it.
As it was, my dick was throbbing and rock hard. Her hand on the back of my head exerted the slightest pressure, and I took it as a sign to proceed. I pulled the side of the dress down further, exposing the satiny slope.
