A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(23)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Sleepiness started to steal over her. She turned on her side, her nose next to Boston’s very nice biceps muscle. She yawned. “It’s been twenty minutes since you checked the door. Shouldn’t we check again?”

Instead of rushing over to the door, Boston lifted his arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her into his chest.

Hello. Big sexy solid chest touching her.

“We’re stuck, Shelby, face it.”

Her lips quivered. She just wanted to plant a little teeny kiss right there on his nipple, just to see what it felt like, how he tasted. But if she did, she’d land flat on her back, she was sure. Which suddenly sounded like such a good idea.

What was she afraid of? Being embarrassed? Dying of pleasure? They were trapped in a house with mischievous dead people; she shouldn’t be worried about how her sexual performance compared to Chicago career women.

She should just go for it. Have one night of passion before she spent the remainder of her days shuttling tours through Cuttersville, before she wound up old and childless and eccentric, caring for seventy-two cats and wearing men’s clothes.

The image was enough to embolden her. Shelby pressed her lips onto his chest, while simultaneously reaching down and stroking the front of his shorts.

He jerked beneath her touch. “Uh. Shelby?”

Shelby traced her tongue across his flesh, enjoying the hitch his breath gave. He was warm and hard and . . . and lacking in a penis? Shelby paused with her mouth on his pectoral, preoccupied. She was feeling all over kingdom come down there and was empty-handed. Ignoring his strangled groan, she kept moving around, determined now.

Where was the damn thing?

Then it occurred to her maybe she couldn’t find it because it was . . . not interested.

She froze, eyes fixed on his chest, her hand over his zipper. She gave a few desperate pats around, not willing to look up and face Boston.

“To the left,” he said, his voice low and rough.

She shifted and encountered a solid wall of hard-on. “Oh!” Whew. That was better.

Splaying her fingers over it eagerly, she went back to her earlier exploration of his chest. Hard hands gripped her shoulders.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious.” She chanced a glance up the length of his chest. He stared down at her over his chin, dark eyes aroused and yet disapproving.

Shelby smiled at him. “I’m ready now.”

He frowned. “And you’re not going to change your mind this time?” he asked suspiciously.

It was a fair question, given her earlier waffling. “No, I swear to you, I will not change my mind.”

He studied her for a minute, then he sat up, pushing her up with him and stripping her T-shirt off before she could say monkey’s uncle. The shirt fell on the eyelet spread while his mouth went straight for her br**sts.

They moaned together when his lips made contact with the rounded flesh popping out of her bra. Shelby went for the button on his shorts, figuring if she had him naked, she couldn’t miss this time.

Her own shorts were so loose that Boston had them half down her thighs without even undoing the button. On their knees, he kissed her, taking her tongue and sending a rush of desire through every inch of her body. Lack of passion didn’t seem to be a problem when she was with Boston.

Gran’s potbelly stove burning full blast was cooler than her inner thighs were. She was throbbing, clenching, aching. Her ni**les pushed painfully against the bra, and her hips rocked forward against him.

Boston didn’t know where to touch first, so he went for a little of everything. He ate at Shelby’s mouth, loving the ragged sound of her breathing, while he slipped a hand over the front of her panties. She was hot, and when he stroked, nudging her panties a little between her folds, the fabric came back damp.

Shelby hadn’t been able to get his shorts and boxers all the way down since he was on his knees, and he used one hand to shove at them, lifting one knee at a time. Holding her and his pants, and leaning at the same time, proved to be his downfall. They both tipped over and landed on their sides on the bed, which was a beneficial thing. Even though their mouths separated in the fall, his hands were free to dispose of his shorts, and quickly move to Shelby’s.

“Are you sure you want to get naked on this spread?” Shelby asked. “It might be dangerous.”

She was wearing an unholy grin. He was willing to forgive her since her ni**les had tumbled out of the top of her bra in the fall.

“Very funny.” Boston pulled one pink plump nipple into his mouth and sucked. It shut her laughter up quickly.

He was still wearing his boxers, and she had on her panties, but when he pressed against her, it felt delicious and hot, an arousing tease of what it would feel like to sink inside Shelby’s firm thighs.

Still moving his tongue over her nipple, Boston gripped the wet cotton of her panties and pulled them to the side. He swirled his thumb over her, finding her clitoris and brushing it.

Shelby arched her back. She made delightful little whimpers that had him sinking his finger into her damp heat, deeper and deeper, then back out. Damn, she felt good, tight and pulsing, and her thighs spread wider for him.

“Yes!” she shouted suddenly, her hand slapping him on the back.

Startled, Boston kept stroking and her voice rose in excitement. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Was she coming already? He’d barely touched her, but she really sounded like she was in the throes of an orgasm. Feeling a little confused but pleased, Boston kept a steady rhythm, not wanting to interrupt her pleasure. And she’d been worried about her lack of experience. Clearly she hadn’t counted on his skill.

Shelby slapped at him again, harder this time. “No, no, no!”

What? What the hell had he done? Boston looked up and saw she was struggling to get out from under him, excitement on her face. Excitement was good, struggling was wrong.

“Get off me! The door’s open.”

That wasn’t on his list of things he’d like her to say.

“Yes, yes, yes” was a good start. “Oh, Boston, that’s perfect” was a good follow-up. And “Take me again, you’re the best I’ve ever had” would be a great finish. Nowhere did that list include her saying “Get off me.”

Shelby jumped up with the dexterity of a circus acrobat, leaving him lying on the bed in his boxers alone. Staring at the open door. Damn. When had that happened? Sometime between her groping for his c**k and him shifting her panties aside.

She had her shorts up and buttoned, her shirt down, and the door propped open with her back before he could even lift himself up.