Muffin Top (Page 47)

Like an asshole, he’d put the room key in his suit pocket. A great plan so both hands would be free to touch her in the elevator, and a really shitty one when he wanted to keep her body plastered to his and open the door at the same time.

“If you don’t put me down so you can open that door, take me inside, and fuck me until I’m hoarse, I’m never speaking to you again.”

That was his Lucy. There wasn’t another woman out there like her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He set her down, got the key out, slid it across the black key reader, and turned the knob of the door that wouldn’t unlock. Fuck me. He swiped again. Nothing. Just a little red blinky light. Meanwhile, Lucy had reached up under her skirt and slipped off her panties. Hell. Just looking at the black satin ball in her hand squeezed the air out of his lungs.

She watched him, amusement curling the corners of that kissable mouth of hers upward as she reached behind her back and did some pinch-and-snap move that was followed up with her sliding the straps of her bra down her arms and somehow managing to pull it off without ever removing her dress. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to her hard nipples pressing against the soft knit of her red dress. He’d seen those nipples, knew what they looked like, with the large peach areolas framing them. That knowledge, without being able to actually see them or touch them, was making his brain a little foggy. So he swiped the key again, as if by magic it would work.

Holding her undies in one hand, she reached out and took the keycard from his grasp. “Try the other one.”

Sexy and brilliant. Fuck yes.

He grabbed the other keycard out of the holder and swiped. The light turned green. He had the door open and both of them through it in the next half breath. Lucy wasn’t done tormenting him, though; she made sure to walk just enough ahead of him—those damn panties and bra in her hand like a sweetly cruel tease—to stay out of his reach.

The room was amazing. At least, he assumed it was, judging by the look on Lucy’s face when she turned toward him because he couldn’t look away from her to check it out for himself. There was no better view than the one he had standing just inside the door.

“This is amazing,” she said as she did a full, slow turn to look at the room again. “But why?”

“Purely for selfish reasons.” He gripped the doorknob so hard he was kinda surprised it didn’t bend, but he needed to stay where he was at the moment or he was going to drag her down to the carpet caveman-style and shove her skirt up so he could bury himself inside her right away.

That wasn’t how tonight was going to go, though. This wasn’t just fucking. This was a seduction. This was his chance to persuade her that they didn’t have to end here. There was a place for them in Waterbury.

“Oh yeah?” She strolled over to the huge bed that faced the windows looking out at the vast national forest and trailed her fingers across the bedspread. “What are those?”

“I want to show you how good it could be between us.”

Her jaw tensed just the slightest, but he caught it.

You not the kind of guy who delivers happily ever afters.

Shannon’s words came back to haunt him at the worst possible time, but he shoved them back. If he was able to do it with anyone, it would be Lucy.

She recovered faster than he did—of course—and dropped her bra and panties on the bed and brought her fingertips up to the deep V neckline of her dress. “Then why don’t you show me?”

The control that he’d been holding onto like a lifeline snapped, and he strode across the room to her. He cupped her face and lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her as much as he could in that moment, deepening the kiss, tasting her, teasing her, telling her without words everything he needed to say.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t sure it ever would be with Lucy.

Without breaking the kiss, he walked her backward to the wall by the bed. He roamed her softness with his hands, loving the feel of how she fit perfectly against him, with him. Finally, he broke the kiss before he got so lost in her that he forgot what he really needed to tell her. What was really on the line.

“I have to warn you that I’m not playing here.” He reached down and started to inch the hem of her dress up. “There’s more between us than some itch we both want to scratch.” He pulled the red material up and off of her, so he could feast his eyes on all of her.

Sucking in a deep breath, he did just that, lingering on her full tits, the gentle curve of her belly, the way her thick legs were spread just the perfect amount for him to drop to his knees so he could curl his tongue around her hard, wet clit—but not yet. First, he had to make sure she knew this was more than a good-time fuck.

“This doesn’t end when we leave Antioch.”

…

Lucy was about to implode or explode or spontaneously combust, she had no idea which one, but something was going to happen. There was no way she could be on the receiving end of that look from Frankie after that declaration and not be. Damn that man, it wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to keep her head and heart out of this whatever-it-was between them when he pulled crap like that?

He was Frankie fucking Hartigan, player, hot firefighter, sexy ginger giant. She was Lucy Kavanagh, which was pretty damn awesome most of the time, but she was in a totally different league than he was, even if he didn’t realize it at the moment because he hadn’t been surrounded by Waterbury’s most beautiful just waiting to throw themselves at him in a week.

“Frankie.” His name sounded like a plea even to her own ears. “Let’s take tonight for what it is.”

“Hot, melt-your-brain sex?” he asked, skimming up her side, leaving a trail of fire in his wake as he delivered a series of soft, deadly kisses down her neck.

“Yes please.”

“But you’re the one who said sex was so much better if there was emotion involved.” He circled a fingertip around the tip of her breast but left her sensitive nipple alone, only letting the heat of his breath tease it. “Were you bullshitting?”

God, she couldn’t think. Not when they were like this. She arched her back, bringing her breasts closer to his mouth, but the evil man just chuckled and took his mouth on a detour, licking and nibbling his way down the side of her breast—so frustratingly close to where she needed him but so damn far away.

“You didn’t answer my question, Lucy.”

That was because she could barely put two thoughts together. “No, but—”

“Then no buts.” Then his hand was on her thigh, the backs of his fingers touching her overheated flesh, and she didn’t even bother to try to bite back her moan. “I like you, Lucy.” His fingers went higher but stopped before brushing the tight curls covering her mound. “I more than like you.”

Her core ached for his touch. Even an inadvertent brush of the back of his hand would have set her off. Breath coming in quiet, needy puffs, she spread her legs, hoping he’d take the hint. Of course, the stubborn man didn’t. And when she moved to slide her own fingers through her slick folds, he encircled her wrists in one of his large hands and lifted her arms above her head.

“That’s not fair,” she groaned, wanting to throttle him almost as much as she wanted to fuck him.

“A man’s got to use the tools at his disposal.” He nuzzled his face against her neck, kissing the spot where her shoulder met her throat. “What’s wrong, are you feeling desperate, Lucy? Like you need some relief?”