Page 173 of Holidating
There’s also a big scar cutting a slash down one side of his torso. A literal battle scar. But we all have those, and it doesn’t dampen the view. She licks her lips and reaches for his fly.
“You’re going to kill me,” he rasps. “Can I take this off?” He reaches for her sweater.
“Any time,” she says easily. An hour ago, she was nervous about this. And, yeah, this version of Damien—the turned-on, half naked one—might be new to her, but it’s stillhim, the guy she’s trusted for almost half her life.
That makes it easier when her sweater suddenly whooshes off her body.
And that makes it easier when Damien is suddenly gazing intently at her La Perla lace bra. The see-through one. “Mother of God,” he whispers, running a fingertip down the bra’s plunging neckline and over the swell of her breast. “You can’t even be for real.”
She’s about to argue when his mouth begins a delicious journey around the edges of the lace. Her body flashes hot, and her nipples harden against the lace.
With a happy grunt, Damien kisses the stiff peaks through the lace. His touch makes her shiver. “Spoiler alert, but I also own the matching panties.”
His groan is ravenous. “Show me.”
There’s another scramble while she sheds her suede skirt and tights.
Damien uses the time wisely, dropping his trousers and toeing off his socks, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs currently strained by a healthy bulge in front.
Nicolette’s body temperature goes up another degree as she tosses her clothes aside.
“Just damn,” he says, crawling onto the bed again on hands and knees. His gaze is laser hot and making a slow perusal of her body. “I was going to say that I didn’t know they made lingerie this hot. But it’s probably only this hot onyou.”
She shivers under his gaze. And when he drops his mouth to trace the seam of her panties against her tummy, her muscles clench with anticipation.
“Breathe,” he commands.
She gasps for oxygen.
“Good girl,” he purrs before nosing his way down onto the lace.
Her skin is a riot of heat and goosebumps as he teases her with his lips, dropping soft kisses over her panties.
It’s sweet torture, and he doesn’t stop. He spreads her legs and flattens his tongue over the lace until she’s writhing and tugging on his hair. “Damien…” she begs.
“What do you need, Nic?”
Everything. She needs everything. But first she needs… “My purse,” she gasps.
He chuckles. The he rolls off the bed and retrieves her bag from the floor.
“Sorry,” she says, dazed. She unzips the bag and finds the strip of condoms. She’s too turned on to speak any further as Damien casually slips off his boxer briefs, leaving nothing but an ambitious, jutting erection.
He moves around the bed, all popping muscles and warm skin, then lowers that warm body down until he’s seated behind her. Clever fingers unclip her bra, removing it.
And when his hands slide around her ribcage to cup her breasts? She sighs happily.
Damien kisses the back of her neck. “I feel like a lit fuse,” he says against her skin. “Fifteen years I’ve dreamed about this.”
She leans her head back against his chest, looking over her shoulder. “In your dreams, what do we do next?”
He chuckles and buries his face in her neck. “Let’s just say it evolved over time. So which version do you want? The scrappy nineteen-year-old fantasy? Or the go-all-night version from when I was twenty-one? Twenty-five? Thirty? Pick a year.”
Feeling sparkly inside, she hugs his arms around her body. “All right. I pickthisyear.”
“Mmm, good choice,” he says, kissing the other side of her neck. “Year thirty-five is hot and filthy. I’ll need you on your hands and knees. Hands on the bed.”
He kisses her neck again, and she feels iteverywhere.
