Ava Gray - Skin Tight

She made him smile. Again. “How silly of me.”

“So we have the whole weekend. I was going to spend it going over their financial records. Are you saying I shouldn’t bother?” Mia tilted her head toward the dossier she’d brought home.

The weekend. He’d forgotten. Since his routine had shifted in the move, he visited Lexie and Beulah May on Saturday. When he’d worked nights at the Silver Lady, weekdays hadn’t proven a problem. That wasn’t the case any longer, and it had taken Beulah months to adjust; the old lady depended on his adherence to routine.

If he had any sense, he’d excuse himself now and come back tomorrow night. As Mia shifted on his lap, ratcheting his lust up another notch, he knew he wasn’t going to. He’d slip out in the morning.

Belatedly, he realized she was still waiting for a response. “It won’t hurt to check, but I’m relatively certain this goes further up the ladder.”

A sexy, knowing smile curved her mouth. “Am I distracting you?”

One wouldn’t think a woman in flannel pajamas could affect him so, but she drove him crazy. He remembered the warmth and softness of her skin. With slightly unsteady hands, he worked the band from her hair. It spilled raven-dark around her face, softening the bold lines.

“Absolutely,” he admitted.

“I’m thinking work can wait until morning,” she said thoughtfully. “Or maybe even Monday. Am I going to get in trouble for seducing the director of HR, by the way? I’m just a lowly IT analyst.”

His smile blossomed. She brightened his world until he couldn’t think about anything else. “That depends. Are you trying to sleep your way to the top?”

She kissed the tip of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “On top of you, sure.”

“That does it,” he said firmly. “Cute as they are, those pajamas have to come off.”

Mia slid off his lap with a wiggle and headed toward the bedroom, every movement an enticement. “Promise?”

As he followed her, Søren knew it wouldn’t be the same this time. He would be every bit as vulnerable to her in bed. When he reached the bedroom, he found her already naked, stepping from a pool of flannel. His mouth went dry at the sight of her lovely bronze skin gilded in the lamplight.

His gaze skated from her shoulders to her breasts to the indent of her waist and the flare of her hips. Her thighs were thick, muscular, as if she liked to ride-horses or bikes, perhaps. If he dared to yield control, she might take him for a spin.

“You’re so beautiful you make me ache.”

“Let’s see how you make me feel.”

He accepted the challenge. Søren stripped without any of his usual finesse. His hands trembled in his eagerness to touch her, kiss her. The time they’d cuddled in her living room had inflamed him beyond what seemed safe or sane. It had been so long since anyone stroked his hair or caressed his face. Most of that isolation was self-imposed, but regardless, the end of a long drought could only come via a powerful torrent.

Her eyes widened as he prowled toward her. He swung her up in his arms, kissing her as he pressed her back onto the bed. She responded like a dream, all fierce heat and open generosity. They landed sideways, but the mattress was big enough it didn’t matter.

“How’s that for starters?”

She smiled up at him, glorious in her dishevelment. “Good.”

“Just good? Clearly I need to do better.”

Humor glinted in her dark eyes, mingled with banked arousal. “Well, I have to give you something to which to aspire. If I said you were sex on a stick, you’d quit trying.”

A startled chuckle escaped him. “Sex on a stick? You think?”

Mia brushed the hair away from his brow, her touch tender. “I do. God, what’s the world done to you?”

He recognized that as a rhetorical question; she understood his circumstances as nobody ever had. Braced on his arms, Søren gave a wry shrug. “It’s enough you think so.”

Almost, he could stay like this forever, gazing into her upturned face. But her body felt too good beneath him. He shifted his hips and her legs parted wide, making room for him. She was already wet, and the awareness went through his brain like lightning.

Shoving into her like an animal was out of the question. He had to display a little finesse before he took her, make her come until she wouldn’t notice his desperation. He didn’t want her knowing how powerful her hold on him had already become.

“God, you feel good.”

Mia tilted her hips. “So do you.”

He wasn’t inside her; he had that much control left, but he couldn’t resist the luscious heat. Her juices coated him as he slid up and down her cleft. Each time he brushed her clit, she jerked and hissed, nails digging into his shoulders. He hadn’t felt a woman’s naked pussy on his cock in years.

It would feel amazing to thrust deep and feel her tighten on him as she came. He could tell she was getting closer with each tiny movement. Her breathing sped up, and her head was tossing side to side. Soon, she’d start bucking, and what he’d give to be inside her when she came.

Protection. Christ, he couldn’t go bareback. Never again. He couldn’t take the chance she’d get pregnant.

Søren rolled off her with a groan. Thinking she’d send him away, he hadn’t come prepared. They’d agreed on one night only, and he’d had every reason to think she hated him, despite the pleasure. He didn’t deserve another chance, and it was beyond him why she’d offered one.

It was too much to hope she had a stash of condoms hidden. In fact, jealousy might kill him if she did. He curled his hands into fists, one touch away from an orgasm.

“I am the dumbest son of a bitch in the world,” he growled.

She rolled onto her side, sliding her thigh over his. The contact made him jerk. “Why do you say that? Not that I’m arguing… since you stopped.”

“We can’t.” Eyes closed, he willed her to get it.

“Ah,” she said on a note of discovery. “The mighty sailor forgot his raincoat. Well, I don’t keep them on hand. This isn’t a typical night for me-and I doubt the old people who live here need them. But…” She traced a line down his chest toward his aching cock. “There are other things we can do.”

Søren froze, wanting to beg her to stop. He didn’t have himself under tight enough control to tolerate her touch. Instead he watched with silent fascination as her slim fingers curled around his shaft. She bent her head.

Oh God no. Not that.

To his everlasting embarrassment, he came.

Mia tried not to show her astonishment.

She’d never had that effect on a man in her life, let alone one so cosmopolitan. But she’d barely touched her lips to his skin, and he arched up. Now he lay with his forearm over his eyes, as if to block out the sight of her. She slipped from the bed and returned with a hand towel. After wiping away the evidence, she lay down beside him, near enough that he could touch her if he wanted, far enough that he didn’t have to.

He was the most puzzling man.

“Well,” he said at last. “That was humiliating.”

“I take it as a compliment.”

At that he rolled onto his side, facing her. “Do you?”

She nodded. “You’re very good for my ego.”

“Then clearly, that’s why I did it. I was indulging you.” Did she spot a spark of self-directed amusement in his eyes?

“I appreciate your consideration,” she said solemnly.

“Anytime you need such a boost, you’ve only to let me know.” He reached out as if he wasn’t sure he had the right, his palm curving with the line of her cheek.

Mia closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it. “You make me feel as though nothing else matters.”