Page 50 of Tour Wars
“Oh, I intend to, Dr. Flores.”
She glanced down at the bulge in his sweats, then flashed him a saucy grin. Turning toward the bed, she yanked off the comforter and blankets and tossed them on the floor, leaving only a top sheet and a pile of pillows. She climbed onto the bed and lay on her back, stretching out in a seductive pose. “Come and get me.”
He set his glasses on the nightstand and positioned himself above her. She gazed up at him, her desire so evident that his last shred of doubt vanished. This wasn’t anything like Philly. This wasn’t a drunken mistake. Shewantedhim.
Lowering the straps of her tank top, he feasted on the sight of her full breasts. He brushed his fingers over her light brown nipples, touching them softly at first, then tweaking them until she gasped. With exquisite tenderness, he ran his tongue over one of the taut buds. He caught the faint scent of orange blossoms on her skin, mixed with a trace of coconut sunscreen.
She tugged on his hair. “Harder, TJ. Please.”
When had she ever begged him to doanything? He sucked on one nipple, then the other, until she was writhing beneath him. Her gasps fueled his lust, making him desperate to bury himself deep inside her, but he didn’t want to rush this. He lifted the tank top over her head and flung it to the side. Even in the dim light of the lamp, her smile was luminous. In all the time he’d known her, he’d never seen her look this happy.
When she tugged on his shirt, he took it off and threw it across the room. She ran her hands along his bare chest and pulled him closer until they were pressed together, skin to skin, igniting the heat between them. But when she reached beneath the waistband of his sweats, he grabbed her wrist.
“No?” she said.
“Not yet. If you do that, I’m going to come.”
“What are you—fifteen?” she teased.
“I’m serious. Pent-up lust will do that to a guy.” He was so wound up that it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.
She withdrew her hand, but her eyes gleamed with mischief. “What if I want you to come? What if I want to make you groan until your voice goes hoarse?”
Was it possible to come just from listeningto someone? Because, fuck, he was halfway there. “I’d be okay with that, but it wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I’ll get my turn. Right?”
“Of course.” How many times in the last week had he fantasized about spreading her legs and tasting her until she cried out in ecstasy?
“Then let me go first. Got it?” She pushed on his shoulders. “I want you on your back.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. He lay on the bed, nestling his head in the mound of pillows. She propped herself up until she was looking down at him and gave him a cheeky smile. “Try not to betooloud, Dr. Mayer. No matter how good it feels, we can’t have the neighbors banging on the walls.”
He chuckled. “I’ll try to control myself.”
She trailed her lips along his bare chest, pausing to suck on his nipples. As the pleasure built up inside of him, he fisted the sheet, trying his hardest to keep quiet. But when she lowered the waistband of his sweats and ran her tongue along the tip of his dick, he let out a harsh groan. “Yes, Em. Please. Like that.”
She took her time teasing him with her tongue, so much that when she finally took him into her mouth, he was dangerously close to exploding. He ran his hand along her silken hair and gripped it tightly. The sensations were a million times better than any of his dreams.
Though, if thiswasa dream? Then he wanted to sleep for eternity. As she took him deeper, he let out another groan.
A sharp knock came at the door, jolting him out of his blissful state.
Emilia pulled away from him and fell back onto the bed. “What the fuck?”
He froze, his body as stiff as an ice sculpture. Had his guttural moans roused the occupants of the room next door? Fate couldn’t possibly be this cruel.
When the knocking started again, Emilia called out. “Yes? Who’s there?”
“Irene Mangold. It’s an emergency. Can I come in?”
An emergency. TJ’s hard-on vanished as his mind raced through worst-case scenarios. Yesterday, Giles Mangold had complained of stomach pains. What if his appendix had burst? Or he’d contracted dysentery? What the hell were they supposed to do?
Emilia sprang off the bed, grabbed her tank top, and put it back on. She paused for a moment, as if catching her breath, then called out. “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Mangold. Let me grab my robe.”
TJ pulled his sweats back over his hips, rolled off the bed, and scooped up his shirt from the floor. He lowered his voice, not wanting Mrs. Mangold to hear him. “I can hide in the bathroom. That way, she won’t see me when you open the door.”
“Good plan. Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Once I go out there to deal with this emergency or…whatever, you should probably leave. I don’t want you to, but…”
