Page 73 of The Devil In Denim
“Makes me wish I had a gray silk tie handy,” she quipped.
“Wouldn’t that mean I was the one doing the commanding?” he said.
She grinned at him. “That depends what I do with the tie, now, doesn’t it?”
“I guess so. Okay. I hate ties but I swear I’ll go shopping tomorrow if that’s what you want. Only, bedroom. Please. Now.” He bent and picked up his jeans, pulled his wallet from the back pocket.
“Are you planning on leaving me a tip?” she teased.
He fished in the wallet, pulled out two condoms. “Planning on leaving you unimpregnated.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I do like a man who comes prepared. But I’m on the pill.”
“Planning on not leaving you with anything else either. Not that I have anything else,” he added hastily. “Had my last physical when I was setting up the financing for the Saints. One hundred percent certified in good working order. And the condoms are new.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Feeling sure of yourself, were you?”
He grinned. “Not sure. Hopeful.”
“Good to know.” She reached over and plucked the condoms out of his hand. “Still, better safe than sorry.”
“Woman after my own heart. Except for your steadfast refusal to show me the damned bed.”
“Patience is a virtue.”
“You’re the saint, I’m the devil, remember? I have no virtue.”
Her eyes drifted down toward his boxers again. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
He shook his head. “Okay. That does it.” He bent down and scooped her up. “This damned apartment can’t be that big. I’ll find the bed myself.”
She twined her arms round his neck. “Excellent plan. But I’ll give you a hint. It’s the last door on the right at the end of the hall.”
“Good hint. Now shut up so I don’t drop you while I decipher it.”
She laughed as he moved faster than she would’ve thought possible for a man with an armful of woman toward the hall. Thankfully she’d left her bedroom door open and there was no need for him to put her down to negotiate the door. At this point she wasn’t sure she wanted him to ever put her down again.
Then they got to the bed. She looked down at the peacock-green comforter, thought about everything that they could do on a mattress versus her current position.
“Unhand me, devil,” she said.
“Whatever you say.” He tossed her onto the bed, shucked off his shirt, and crawled up the mattress toward her. She tossed the condoms she’d been gripping onto the bedside table and rolled onto her back, reaching for him.
“Come back here.”
Their noses bumped as they came together for a fast and frantic kiss. Suddenly, here in the bedroom, they were all elbows and fingers and incoherent sentences as they lost underwear and slid and rolled and twisted, desperate for skin on skin.
Surely someone had let a bomb off beneath her skin? Heat rushed through her as she pressed against Alex, kissing him madly, drinking him down and letting him devour her in turn. An explosion would explain the roaring in her ears and the heat and the dizzying swirl of her senses. But if there’d been an explosion there wouldn’t be the pleasure singing beneath it all. The pleasure beating between her legs and pulsing in her breasts and flooding her skin everywhere he touched. The pleasure that was gradually becoming louder and more insistent and drowning out everything except the urgency.
She rolled and reached and groped for a condom, tearing the foil open with her teeth and rolling it onto the length of Alex’s cock with as much speed as she could muster. She wanted to take her time. Wanted to explore the contrasts of him more. Hard muscle. Hot skin. The glorious masculine solidity and scent of him.
But that would have to wait. Because the song had changed to a frantic beat of “now now now” and she found herself on her back once more, drawing him down and twining herself around him as he positioned himself and then thrust into her.
God. Yes.
For a moment the world stopped. Frozen. Just the two of them. Just hot green eyes meeting hers with a look of dazzled pleasure and the pulse of him inside her. One long moment and then the urgency built again. Alex began to move, slow and steady and sure at first, mouth on hers, one hand slipping between them to find her clit and push her further … higher. Deeper. She couldn’t catch her breath, wasn’t sure of where she was anymore. Didn’t know anything except the man above her and the sensation inside her and the need to stay here and now and move with him as his breath roughened and so did hers and they went faster and harder. Messy and sweaty and so, so good.
He pushed her right out of her head. Out of all the worry and the thinking until she was just Maggie. Maggie drowning in pleasure and tensing, reaching for the sensation that was building and building and building until it hit and she held onto him as she went over the edge and disappeared.
