Getting Hotter

She scanned her brain. “Fourth of July?”

He shoved her black miniskirt all the way up to her waist and parted her thighs. She knew he’d noticed the damp spot on her bikini panties because he groaned softly, his gaze fixed on her crotch.

“Fourth of July,” he echoed, his voice hoarse. “Okay, so I’ll go down on you on the Fourth of July, and then we can compare which is better, birthday or holiday oral.”

“Sounds good.”

Her laugh died midbreath as Seth shoved his hands under her butt and brought her body forward so her sex was practically hanging off the couch cushion. Anticipation coiled in her belly. When he slowly peeled her underwear down her legs, her breath hitched, pu**y tingling as she awaited his next move.

And boy was it worth the wait. The kiss he planted on her clit was so gentle, so warm and sweet, that it sent a full-body shiver rolling through her. Miranda’s head lolled to the side. Seth continued to kiss her most intimate place, using only his lips, depriving her of a tongue she knew to be oh so talented.

“You’re teasing,” she whispered. “And we don’t have a lot of time.”

“We’ve got twenty more minutes at least.” His hot breath tickled her sex.

“Yeah, but…” A moan slipped out when he rubbed his lips over her clit in another delicate kiss.

It wasn’t long before she realized he intended to use their allotted half hour to focus entirely on her pleasure. He worshipped her pu**y like it was the single greatest treasure on earth. He kissed, licked, swirled, spreading her lips so he could tend to her clit and drive her closer and closer to the edge.

His stubble teased her inner thighs, deliciously scraping her sensitive skin, each raspy scratch heightening her rising excitement. She was so wet she could feel herself dripping, but Seth lapped her up with his tongue, groaning with approval.

The tension grew. Miranda looked down, mesmerized by the sight of his dark head between her legs. She threaded her fingers through his hair, bumping her groin into his face, losing herself in the pleasure he offered so sweetly.

“I want you to come.” His voice was low, strangled, vibrating in her core. “Come on my tongue, baby. Let me taste you.”

“Oh God.” Dirty talk was always guaranteed to send her teetering over the edge, and Seth was so damn good at it.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, then flicked his tongue over her clit. Quickly, precisely, knowing exactly what it would take to make her explode.

But the orgasm remained elusive, rippling beneath the surface, skipping across her skin in teasing little flames, refusing to catch fire. She was gasping for air, clutching Seth’s hair so tightly she was surprised he didn’t protest.

So close. She was so close. All she needed was—that. Seth pushing two fingers inside her and wrapping his lips solidly around her clit. He sucked, and she climaxed, soaring into a spectacular plane where nothing but sheer ecstasy existed.

“Well?”

She emerged from her blissful daze to find Seth eyeing her expectantly. “Well what?” she wheezed, still catching her breath.

“You think the Fourth of July has any chance of topping that?”

“Not at all,” she confessed.

He gave her one last lick, and her sex was so sensitized she squirmed out of reach. Chuckling, Seth put her panties back on, tugged her skirt down and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Miranda moaned when she noticed that his facial hair glistened with her juices. God, that was hot.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly.

“Not really. I can’t move my legs and I totally don’t want to go back to work.”

“I don’t blame you. Hey, if you want, I can stick around until closing time.” Something that resembled vulnerability crossed his face. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

“I won’t have time to talk tonight. I have to wake up early tomorrow. Morning classes, remember?”

“Ah. Right.”

“Talk to me now. We’ve still got some time.”

That odd expression fluttered in his eyes again. “Um. Okay, sure.”

Miranda flopped on the couch and waited. And waited. And waited some more. But Seth was just standing there, fidgeting, running a hand over his stubble, through his hair, behind his neck.

She started to get up. “Well, this has been thought-provoking, but—”

“I want to date you.”

Miranda’s ass plopped right back down. “What?”

“I want to date you.” His chest rose as he inhaled a deep breath.

“Seth…”

She had no clue what to say to that. No clue what to make of the little burst of joy that tickled her heart. Why was she happy, for Pete’s sake? Last time she’d considered letting the fling evolve into more, Seth had burst that bubble with four little words—they’re not my kids.

“No, just hear me out.” Misery clung to his voice, and it took her a second to fathom that the weird flicker in his eyes? It really was vulnerability. Wow. Who would have thought?

Seth sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees and looking completely ill at ease. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted at the pizza place. Your children are great, Miranda. They’re smart, thoughtful, cute as hell. I’m just not fully comfortable with them.”

He was echoing the same words Ginny and Andre had said in the studio, and Miranda didn’t hear a trace of insincerity.