Quarterback Draw
Page 46Nah. That wasn’t possible.
He snaked a fingertip up her stomach. She turned her head to watch his face.
“Tell me what you like,” he said, letting his fingers dip lower.
He caught her nervous swallow. “I like … everything.”
He changed direction, moving up her body to cup her breast. She gasped when he brushed a thumb back and forth over her nipple.
“Hard or soft?”
She frowned. “What?”
“Do you like it soft, like this?” He demonstrated by using featherlight touches of his fingers over her nipple. She seemed to like that.
“Or a little harder, like this.” He increased the pressure. She moaned, and when he bent over and sucked the bud between his lips, she arched upward, feeding her nipple into his mouth.
Oh, yeah. He flicked his tongue over her, loving the soft areola and hard bud against his tongue. And when her fingers slid into his hair to hold his head in place, he knew he had her, that she was enjoying the pleasure he gave her.
She was wet, and as he dipped his fingers inside her, he realized just how damn tight she was.
He lifted his head and watched her face as he slid his fingers in and out of her. Her eyes were closed, her teeth clamped down on her lower lip. Her face was flushed and she lifted her hips against his hand.
“Are you going to come for me, Kat?”
Her eyes flew open, her gaze meeting his. Her hips relaxed and it was as if she’d lost the drive, the need.
“You’re watching me.”
His lips curved. “Yeah. It makes my cock hard looking at you. Does it bother you?”
“I don’t know. Yes. I don’t know, maybe.”
“It would be kind of hard for me to make you come if I’m not in the room.”
“Of course. I understand that. But … this is a little … personal.”
When she didn’t say anything, he had his answer. He withdrew his fingers.
“Katrina. You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?”
She shifted and pushed her way up, leaning against the pillows. “Technically, no.”
Reality came tumbling down on top of him like a landslide. He avoided the knee-jerk reaction of wanting to ask her how the hell she could be twenty-seven and still a virgin. There was obviously a reason for it and he needed to get to the bottom of it. “Okay. You need to talk to me about this.”
She shrugged and looked down at her hands. “I’ve had … responsibilities. The kids. My job. There wasn’t time. Or the right guy. The right moment.”
And she thought he was the right guy and this was the right moment? Christ. That was loaded with responsibility. Responsibility he didn’t know if he was ready for. He’d never had a virgin in his bed. What was he supposed to do with her?
He looked over at Katrina and saw the disappointment on her face and felt an instant stab of guilt that he’d even, for a second, felt like this was a problem.
Okay, it wasn’t like they were sixteen—like she was sixteen. She was twenty-seven, and he sure as hell wasn’t a kid. He needed to be an adult about this. So she hadn’t had sex before. This wasn’t a problem. It was an opportunity. Looking at the embarrassment on her face made him realize this was no easier for her than it was for him.
And he’d be goddamned if he’d turn this into something less than monumental for her. She’d chosen him, and he felt damn good about that.
He tipped her chin with his fingers, forcing her to make eye contact with him. “Hey, I don’t think you’re anything like that. I admire you for what you’ve done for your brother and sister. You’ve made a lot of sacrifices. But now it’s time to think about yourself and what you want.”
She didn’t say anything.
“But you have to be really sure, Kat. Is this what you really want? And now is when you want it?”
She gave him a quick nod. “I’m an adult, Grant. Not a child. I’m perfectly capable of making adult choices. This is definitely what I want. I’ve waited long enough and I want to be here with you.”
He felt relieved, and a lot of pressure to do this right.
He picked up her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “Okay, so tell me what kind of experience you have had. With guys. Or with yourself.”