Page 65 of Cocky Prince
I sniff his coat. “Never.”
“If you’re smelling me, I suppose that’s a yes?”
“Yes. And I want permission to sniff you whenever I like, because you smell really good.”
“I can agree to those terms, as long they work in reverse.”
“Agreed.” I warm up with my arms wrapped around his waist and my face plastered to his chest. “I’m not against being exclusive and finding out where this goes—take things slow.”
Famous last words…
* * *
We manageto make it inside the door to my house before Adam is kissing me and I’m loosening his tie and struggling to get it off so that I can kiss his neck. Of course my fashionable Adam has to wear a tie while all his brothers skipped it with their sports coats.
“I hate this thing.” Somehow, an item that should be so simple to remove has become complicated, as I’ve managed to triple-knot the slipknot. Adam slides the straps of my dress over my shoulders, making it even more challenging to get the dang tie off. “Arghh!”
He pulls back and glances down. He fusses with the tie for a second, then strides into the kitchen.
“Hey, where are you going?” I stand there confused, my arms bound to my sides by my dress.
I hear him shuffling around in a drawer, and then he returns, a wad of something in his hand. He passes it to me, and starts kissing my neck and the tops of my breasts again. I glance at the wad. It’s his tie. Cut in two.
That’s hot.
I kick off my heels and yank his coat off his shoulders. He wiggles out of it, and I start working on the buttons of his shirt. One of them shoots past my head, almost taking out an eye, but I maintain focus. Until cool air hits my back and I suck in a breath. Adam unzipped my dress, the fabric dropping to the ground.
Well, there goes that.
I’m in panties and a strapless bra that cinches like a bitch in order to keep the girls up. I’d beg Adam to remove it just to return feeling to my skin, but there’s no need. With one flick, he has it off and his hands on my breasts are circulating all kinds of heated blood flow to the area.
His thumb glides over my nipple and I squeak.
He pulls back and quirks a brow. “Sensitive?”
“Maybe?”
He starts kissing me again and leans down, his palms gliding down my bare legs and up the backs of my thighs. Shivers rack my body. And then he’s circling his arms around me and lifting me, his chest and arms blasting heat where our bodies connect, though I’m in far less fabric, according to my calculations. I got the shirt off, but he’s wearing a damned undershirt too.
His soft, nimble mouth is seducing the shit out of mine as he carries me down the hallway. My calves hit the mattress of my bed, and then I’m half falling, half lowered as he covers me, toeing off his shoes in the process, his arms supporting his weight. But the weight that isn’t fully supported feels incredible, pressing in all the right places.
I drag my mouth away from his. “Shirt. Off.”
He sits back on his heels, his knees on either side of my hips, and whips the offending T-shirt over his head. He tries to cover my body again, but it’s too late. I saw his chest for the very first time.
“Whoa, whoa,whoa. Back up, buddy.” I push his shoulders until he straightens, his muscular thighs straining the dress pants he has on, a belt resting below thick ridges of abdominal muscles.
I run my hands up and down his chest, trailing a finger along the muscles above his belt.
His breathing increases, his mouth tense. “Finished?”
I don’t get a chance to answer, because he’s on top of me again and kissing me with an intensity that makes my head spin. “Hayden,” he says, with a level of feeling I’ve never heard from him before. Soft fingers trail gently along my jaw as he gazes down at me. His eyes are nearly black in this light, and so warm I don’t know how I could have thought him cold.
I let out a sigh and wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him to me. When did Adam become so essential to a good day versus a bad one? It used to be the opposite, but at some point things changed. The linen and manly scent of him drugs me, his touch ignites, and his voice seduces. But his eyes—they tell me everything I’ve missed. Adam is not the rich opportunist I took him for. And he cares more than I knew.
I reach for his belt and fumble with it for a second, nearly shouting in triumph when I get it loose, along with the button and zipper of his pants. He kisses and licks a path to my breasts, distracting me and making my work harder, but not impossible. I push the pants down with my feet, along with an elastic waistband my hazy brain identifies as boxer briefs, and then he slides higher, kissing my neck, his thick, long erection pressing down above my panties. A jolt of pleasure rocks through me and we moan at the same time.
Seconds later my panties melt off—or he pulls them off, who knows? They’re gone, that’s all that matters, and he’s kicking off the last offensive piece of clothing still dangling from his ankles, and then we’re rolling—naked, hot, and hands everywhere.
