For Better or Worse
Page 64“I know,” she said before she pulled his mouth down to hers once more. “But Josh. No more talking. Tonight I don’t want to be bickering Josh and Heather, I want to be—I want—”
Josh’s mouth brushed softly over hers. “I know. I want, too. Heather.”
Heather. Not 4C.
His kiss was gentle as he coaxed her lips open, his mouth making love to hers in sweet, hot caresses, his tongue lingering and seductive.
In the very back of her mind she knew that he’d kissed dozens of women. Perhaps even more. But tonight he was kissing her, and it felt . . . significant.
His hands slid up her sides, reminding her of her naughty dreams, and she smiled. He pulled back. “Tickle?”
She shook her head. “No. Just really, really good.”
They undressed each other in leisurely, slow movements, taking time to explore every inch of skin revealed.
She gave back as good as she got, her fingers making quick work of the remainder of his buttons as she shoved the dress shirt over his shoulders and down his arms.
Heather froze a little in nervousness when he tugged her upward to unsnap the back of her bra, and he stilled. “Want me to stop?”
Josh pulled back slightly, touching a knuckle to her lip. “Trust me. It’s already very, very good because it’s you.”
Her eyes closed and her breath caught.
It was the right thing to say as he’d likely known it was. This time when he reached for her bra, she didn’t freeze. And when his palms came around to cup her, she arched into him, biting her lip as his thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks. He smiled at her whimper as his fingers continued their slow perusal, circling and flicking until her nipples were hard and begging.
“You like that,” he whispered.
She nodded.
“Me too,” he whispered. He dipped his knees so his mouth was even with her breasts, and her breathing quickened in anticipation.
But his touch didn’t come.
Wild with need, she glanced down, saw him watching her. Only when their eyes met did he give her what she needed, his mouth slowly closing around one nipple and pulling it into his warm wet mouth.
“Josh.” Her fingers dug into his hair.
“A bed? How conventional,” she quipped, trying to ward off some of the embarrassment of being mostly naked, her nipples damp and cold from his mouth.
“Yeah, well, thought I’d spoil you, what with it being a holiday and all,” he said.
“What happens when it’s not a holiday? Kitchen sex?”
Josh turned once he reached the bed and tugged her toward him, her bare breasts brushing the hard planes of his chest and sending her already-simmering lust up another notch. “Kitchen sex. Shower sex. Couch sex, taxi sex—”
“Taxi sex?”
He smiled wickedly against her mouth as he kissed her slow and deep as she tried to figure out whether he was joking.
In the end, it didn’t matter. Because when he gently lowered her to the bed and lowered himself on top of her, there was only this moment.
He removed her pants and then his own, before glancing down her body and running a single finger along the top edge of her panties, just below her belly button.
“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice quiet as his finger roamed lower.
“Are you still wearing a thong?”
In response, Heather merely lifted her eyebrows. “I thought we agreed no more talking.”
His gaze narrowed, and he slowly pushed her onto her stomach, groaning as he got the answer to his question.
“Why am I so obsessed with your ass?” he asked, his fingers trailing down her back until they reached the tiny fabric of the thong.
He hooked a finger beneath it teasingly, and Heather folded her arms under her head, biting the back of her hand to keep herself from begging him to touch her.
She didn’t have to beg.
He was already touching, his palm molding the shape of her butt as he planted hot kisses on the back of her neck.
His hand trailed lower, snaking under the fabric of her underwear as he slid a finger into her wetness without preamble. They both moaned.