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Ben's low growl lifts the hairs on my arms, my neck. I look into his handsome face, dark lashes still heavy on his cheeks, lips parted but with no less determination now that he'shorizontal.
“But I’m sticky.” My hand strokes up his chest and around his neck, relishing every inch of hard muscle and smooth skin before threading experimentally in his thickhair.
“We’re both sticky." He tugs my hips against his, the hardness alreadythere.
I don't resist when his mouth claimsmine.
The memory of his words makes me insanely, deliriouslyhappy.
“What do Ineed?”
“Me.”
There was no room for doubt when we came together again through the night until we were tangled and sweaty and exhausted in thedark.
It felt like everything he said with his body meant more thanwords.
Now, despite the soreness, I’m lighter than I have been inages.
I reach for my panties, the scrap of lace hanging off the side of the bed, and hold them up. “Well, these areruined.”
He props up on his elbows, surveying the evidence and me with a perplexed frown that’s sexy and endearing at once. “I’ll buy you another pair for every day of theweek."
“That’s kind ofsweet.”
“It’s self-serving. I’ll fuck you until they’re all ruinedtoo.”
Holy. His slow grin is so knowing, it should some with a censor’swarning.
I’ll never get used to my best friend like this. He’s tormentor and comforter, wicked and sweet, dirty and… okay, mostlydirty.
Not that I’m complaining. It’s the best sex I’ve everhad.
“You’re filthy,” Isay.
“You’reexquisite.”
He lifts me and carries me to the bathroom. If it should feel awkward, it doesn't. He’s even more gorgeous naked than clothed, which should be impossible but isn’t. His body is hard lines and planes, strong shoulders and pecs, chiseled abs and an ass that makes me wish my nails were longer so I could dig into it when he’s rocking into me in that relentless, punishing rhythm. Except that I want to touch every inch of him. I'm rediscovering my best friend in entirely newways.
Ben sets me down next to the huge, glassed-in shower and he turns iton.
"You should really have a bathtub in here," I comment. "A clawfoot soakertub."
“You sleep over one time and you’re telling me what my condo should look like?” The teasing threat hangs in his tone, and I snort itaway.
“You'd be lost without me.” His grin fades, and I turn back to the shower. "I've had nightmares about falling in theshower.”
He reaches for a drawer under the vanity. “Then it’s time to get over thosefears.”
His smug voice is sexy, and he slaps a pack of condoms on the soaprack.
How much endurance does this man have?I think I want to findout.
I step under the spray, loving his gaze on me. The water feels almost as good as his darkeyes.
My fingers dig into his strong biceps when he joins me in the shower. “There must be a trick toit.”
He’s looking at me as if I’m cute. "The trick is you hang on tome."
