Page 43 of Auction Time
“Perfect,” he said and started planting small, fiery kisses down my legs.
I giggled when he tugged on the straps of my heels with his teeth.
“These come back for round two,” he promised with a wolfish grin.
“Round two?” I was intrigued to find out if I’d make it past round one.
“Oh yes. There will be a round two and as many rounds as we can fit in.”
Gently, he took my feet and removed my heels. Then he took both my hands and placed them on his chest.
“Your turn, goddess. You get to undress me now.”
My lips parted in surprise, but damn did I ever get hungry at the thought of doing such a thing.
“I get to undress you?” I said that more to myself than to him.
“I’m all yours. Every single piece of me belongs to you tonight,” he told me with that wide sexy smile. “You get to do whatever you want to me. Anything.”
“Anything?” I cooed dreamingly.
He nodded slowly as if for effect.
I didn’t have to think hard at all. Although my hands were shaking, I started undoing his shirt buttons. I got to the last one and pulled his shirt from his pants. As the soft cotton lay open, I got completely sucked into the perfection of him.
His perfectly sculptured masculine torso was the kind that rivalled all. Raw, hot, real.
The precision in every muscle that run the line of his abs, from his hard pecs to the sharp V-cut in the edge of his hip, was astounding. He shook off his shirt, and the slight movement drew my attention to even more muscle. Muscles I didn’t know could exist on a real person. It was clear that when he worked out, he wanted it all and took his time to make sure he had it.
I loved that he had one little tattoo on his hip and that it didn’t distract from the work of art he was.
Of course, I had to examine all of him, so I walked around him slowly and stopped when I saw his back. Unlike the front of him, a massive dragon took up the whole of his back. Inky black and magnificently carved into the ridges of muscles. I had to touch it. I ran my fingers right over it, over the planes and definition of the skin, and made my way right back around to the front when my eyes landed on what was my favorite part of him.
Correction—one of my favorite parts of him. It was my first favorite part.
His happy trail. Running in a dark line right down from his navel, it disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
I absolutely loved it.
I was fourteen.
I remembered when I’d first seen him with his shirt off. I’d actually walked into a post. Thank God no one saw me.
I’d quickly picked myself up and gawked at him shirtless out on the field. I was by the bleachers near the water coolers, and he came up to me. That was when I first got the confirmation that the man was perfect.
Cole, then sixteen, was like the poster boy heartthrob every girl swooned over. I saw the abs and the definition in muscle straightaway, but what I loved was his happy trail. I wanted to run my fingers all over it. I’d just wanted to touch him.
Never mind the fact that the week before was when he’d left a petrified frog in my lunch box.
I’d been looking so much, unable to take my eyes off him, he’d looked at me. That was all. A look, then a smile as he walked away. At fourteen years old, it had just been the kind of thing that made me walk around with a smile on my face all day, and write it down in my diary.
Now he was mine, so yes, I totally knew what I was going to do to him.
I fulfilled the little fantasy I had by running my fingers right over the flat plane of his stomach, lingering by the fine hairs. Then I bent down and placed a soft kiss on the tight skin there and licked it, tasting him. He tasted amazing, like a dream.
His eyes widened, and the heat of the blaze in his eyes was scorching.
“Jesus.” He smirked, gazing down at me as I continued to lick at the taut skin. “That feels fucking amazing, Vanessa.”
