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He makes a rumbling sound deep within his throat. “Potato-po-tah-toh. Now quiet, I’m busy here.”
It’s not like I can move. His heavy thigh lies across mine, and the warm weight of his chest presses against my ass.
He’s moving, nipping and tasting his way over my shoulders. A gentle touch sweeps my hair off my neck so he can kiss my nape.
I shiver. A full-body shake that feels as delicious as it is terrifying. It’s too much.
Too intimate. He surrounds me, all heat and strength, every touch like adoration.
He presses an open-mouthed kiss on my shoulder blade and a small groan comes from him. “I dreamed of doing this the other day.”
“What?” I’ve fallen into a haze, but this stirs me enough to lift my head.
I can see him grin, but his attention is on my freckles.
“In class,” he says. “I lost track of time thinking about peeling off that white sweater you were wearing and licking my way across your shoulders.”
As if to emphasize this little confession, he licks a path from my nape to the tip of my shoulder blade.
“You can’t be thinking about that in class.” God, he can’t because then I’ll be thinking of him doing it, and I won’t remember another freaking word our professor utters.
Unfortunately, Drew shakes his head as he proceeds to kiss his way down my spine. “Sorry, Jones, but you don’t have a say over my fantasies.”
“Shithead.”
He laughs outright at that, but doesn’t stop. “Take your breasts, for example. Those play a starring role in so many.” He’s conversational now as he slides his way down my back, his hands holding my ribs, his mouth destroying me. “God, I almost lost it during a footage review, thinking about your nipples, the way they go stiff when I suck them, and how you make those little whimpers when I do.”
I may have whimpered again because he stops for a moment, his lips hovering. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Like that.”
“Jesus.” It’s all I can say.
“Or your pussy. Your sweet, pink—” he kisses the dip in my waist “—pussy. Always so wet for me.”
The tip of his tongue glides downward, scattering pleasure in its wake. “I think about that every time I drive over here.” He sucks the tender skin at the small of my back. “How tight and wet you’ll be for me.”
His words are crude. I should protest. I can’t. He’s turned my body against me. It has become this languid thing, stretching and undulating into his touch like a cat to sunlight. I’m so hot my skin shivers. But he doesn’t stop. Of course not.
The truth is, I don’t want him to. Nothing has felt better than this.
“And then there’s your ass.” He lets out a long appreciative groan that makes me blush. Not that he’s noticed. He’s too busy molding me. “This ass.” His big hands palm either side of my butt and squeeze.
“Drew!”
“Shh.” He gives my butt a light slap, and I blush harder at the resulting wiggle of flesh. While he merely hums. “I’m having a moment.” His voice goes husky. “With this fucking perfect ass.”
“It is not!” Though I’m mostly happy with my body, I know what it is and what it isn’t.
“Ah, Jones,” he tuts. “You’re just fishing for compliments now.” He gives my left butt cheek a featherlight kiss.
“I’m simply being honest, you goober.”
Another kiss lands on my skin. “You’re deluded. Your ass. Jesus, your whole body...” He pauses, his mouth just touching the point where my back swoops up to meet my butt. “Nothing compares, Jones.”
I’m struck breathless. He’s the one who is incomparable.
“I’ve seen the girls you’ve been with, Baylor.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wince. It only hurts me to call them to mind. But I’ve said it, so I’ve got to finish. “You cannot claim that my body is...”
I was wrong; I can’t finish.
