Jeanie London - Real Men - Rugged Rebels - Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero

Gemma moved toward the staircase and pulled him with her. She half reclined, half pulled herself up the steps backward with him on top of her, crawling over her to keep up with her, snatching a kiss here, dropping a bite there. She smelled of an enticing mix of earthy perfume and rain.

“I’m getting you wet,” he murmured, licking the moisture from her collarbone.

“Yes, you are,” she whispered in a husky tone that sent another surge of lust ripping through his body. With both hands, he nudged the red skirt higher to reveal the miniscule white thong underneath. The knowledge that she’d been wearing it all day while he watched her at the museum sent a jolt to his balls. Taking advantage of the leverage the stairs provided, he knelt between her knees and lowered his head to capture the thin fabric in his teeth. When she moaned and thrust her hips up, he buried his head between her thighs and tongued her heated folds through the thin barrier, inhaling her rich, womanly scent.

She drove her fingers into his hair, urging him on. It was all the encouragement he needed to roll the thong down her legs for full access to the nest of light brown hair that at this moment held the answer to every question pummeling his body. He clasped her bare thighs and opened her legs wider to him, then lowered his mouth to her glistening sex, kissing, licking and sucking her engorged clit. Her musky nectar filled his mouth, fueling his desire for her to unbearable heights.

From her frustrated noises, he sensed that she, too, was close to the edge. “Please, Chev … please.”

He stabbed his tongue inside her and moaned against her sensitive pink flesh to send vibrations to her pleasure centers. Concentrating on her enjoyment helped to keep his own arousal in check. She came with a great anguished cry of satisfaction, her clit pulsing against his tongue, her knees squeezing his shoulders. Masculine pride filled his chest that he could deliver her to a place where only physical joy mattered. He allowed her to recover for a few seconds, but he knew his own body well enough to know that he couldn’t hold out much longer.

He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs to her bedroom. When he released her, she slid down his body with her arms looped around his neck, a sleepy, sexy smile on her face beneath the mask. He kissed her beauty mark, then claimed her mouth. He reached under the skirt to cup her bare ass in both hands, feeling her wetness on his fingers.

She pulled his damp shirt over his head, then unfastened the waistband of his slacks and lowered the zipper. Chev stepped out of them, shucking his waterlogged shoes and socks in the process. His briefs clung to him, his desire for her unrepressed. He reached for her, wanting to rid her of her clothes, but Gemma pushed him toward the bed and urged him to sit. Then she walked out of arm’s reach.

When she began to unlace the white bustier, Chev leaned back on his elbows to enjoy the show. With the skirt rucked up, hugging her thighs, her bare, tanned legs looked a mile long in those red high heels. His cock surged. Clear liquid oozed out of the head that protruded from the waistband of his briefs, pooling on his stomach. She slowly unlaced the bustier and allowed her breasts to fall free. He groaned to see the magnificent globes up close, his hands itched to touch the distended pink nipples.

She turned away from him and gave him a coy smile over her shoulder, then shimmied the skirt down to her ankles. Her tight ass made his mouth water, but when she bent over to step out of the garment, the view made the moisture on his tongue evaporate.

“Come to me,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

She turned and walked to the bed, her breasts bouncing, her thighs still shimmering with wetness.

“Take off the mask.”

She shook her head. “I like it better this way.”

Not in a position to argue, Chev pushed off his underwear, releasing his raging erection. She climbed on top of him and wrapped her fingers around his dick. The sensation made him buck. He clasped her hand. “I have to have you now. Let me get a condom before I explode.”

Gemma stopped and for several agonizing heartbeats, Chev feared she would say that she didn’t want to have sex. She seemed to be balancing on some sort of precipice and for an angry split second, he thought it was good that she could trust him. If she said no, he would find a less pleasurable way to achieve his release, but another man who had been tantalized by her watch-me games might not be so accommodating.

“I have a condom,” she said finally, then leaned over to a nightstand and removed one from the drawer.

Her ex-husband’s condoms, he realized in a haze. With her hands on him, rolling on the thin sheath, he frankly didn’t care where it had come from.

Chev flipped her onto her back and settled his body over hers. He feasted on her breasts, sucking and biting on her nipples until they were hardened and scarlet.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes.”

Chev had always prided himself on taking it slow with his lovers, but with Gemma, he felt feverish. And suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed her mouth and her neck, then entered her silky channel in one deep thrust. Her body clenched around his like an exquisite spring—he set his jaw against the tornadic pull of her core.

Even as his body found a rhythm with hers, something akin to fear reared in his chest … it had never been like this before. This … force that seemed to be drawing the life fluid out of him. She lifted her hips to meet him stroke for stroke, her nails digging into his shoulders. Behind the mask her eyes were glazed with passion.

He tried to maintain control, but within a few seconds, he felt his body racing toward paradise. Her cries escalated and she climaxed again, contracting around the length of him in waves. Chev surrendered to the power of her and shot rope after rope of his essence, shuddering at the sheer intensity of being emptied so completely.

When their moans had subsided, he lowered his body gingerly, careful not to crush her, and rolled to the side. Gasping for breath, he lay staring at Gemma’s still-masked profile, reeling from the emotions plowing through him. When had this happened? When had he fallen for her? And what could possibly come of it?

As if by mutual consent, they didn’t speak. The rain falling on the roof was hypnotic, prolonging their fantasy state. Dusk was giving way to darkness quickly, casting shadows across the bedroom. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air and incredibly, Chev wanted her again. He reached for her hand, twined their fingers. “Gemma—”

“Shh,” she whispered, putting a finger to his lips. Then she pushed herself up to straddle him. Her magnificent breasts swung heavily, the large peaks within easy reach of his lips. “Let’s think of something to do with our mouths other than talk.”

The woman was nothing if not persuasive. Chev opened his mouth to receive an engorged nipple and sucked hungrily, determined to grant every sexual wish Gemma had, hoping that she would allow him to stay in her bed … and perhaps, in her life.

GEMMA LOVED to make love in the morning. She stretched her arms tall and her legs long until her muscles sang, then she smiled and rolled over.

But at the sight of Chev Martinez slumbering on Jason’s side of the bed—his black hair stark against the white pillowcase, his gold earring glinting against his skin, his tattoo of a leafless tree vivid on his muscled shoulder—she panicked. His being here seemed so … wrong. She sat and pulled up a sheet to cover her breasts, still tender from Chev’s skillful hands and tongue.

Sometime during the night the rain had stopped. The morning sun slanted in the picture window, casting harsh light on the aftermath of their night of unbridled sex. The air was ripe with the aroma of body fluids, with at least three spent condoms in view. The sheets on the bed were tangled and warm, the bedspread and decorative pillows flung to the far corners of the room. The black mask dangled around her neck. Her costume from yesterday lay in one pile, his clothes in another. The sight of another man’s dress shoes on the area rug made her heart race. What had she done?