Page 42 of Rogue Survivor
Fuuuuck. How am I supposed to resist her when her voice takes on that deep, sultry tone and she strokes delicate fingers over the hard bulge straining against my boxers?
“Are you sure?” I have to force the words out with her touching me like that. It’s been too long since a womanwantedme. Since I letmyselfwant. “We’re not alone here.”
“Veronica won’t come in. She was out the second she got into bed. I need this, Connor. I need you.”
No one ever accused me of being dumb as a post—at least not where women are concerned—so I slide off the bed and quietly flick the lock on the door.
When I turn around, I lose my words entirely. Isabel’s standing in only her bra and panties, and though they’re plain—just black silk from what I can tell—they frame her body in a way that pushesallmy buttons.
Including the one that makes these Wranglers so tight, I’m afraid if I don’t get them off soon, I’ll do permanent damage. But before I can tell her that, she drops her gaze to the floor. “I’m scared, Connor.”
I reach her in two strides, but she shies away from me and holds up her hand.
“I’m forty-six years old. My boobs are starting to sag, I’m a good thirty pounds heavier than I was the last time I was naked in front of anyone other than my doctor, and now that we’re actually here, I keep asking myself if I even rememberhowto be intimate with a man.”
“Now hold up a minute.” I take her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs in gentle circles over the insides of her wrists. “You are hotter than blue blazes, Isabel Lopez, and if anyone hasevermade you feel otherwise, I’m gonna have words with them. Ain’t nothin’ here even a fraction short of perfection.”
Isabel’s cheeks darken, and she glances back at the light. “We can—”
“Nope.” Planting a swift, hard kiss to her lips, I release her. “Been a long time since I knocked boots with anyone, darlin’. Had the chance, sure. But this—sex—means somethin’ to me. Always has. My mama drilled that into me when I was growing up, and I sure as shit ain’t gonna change my ways now.”
Her eyes glisten, and I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or if she’s as turned on as I am. Hoping for the latter, I start undoing the buttons on my shirt and offer her an encouraging smile.
“Also, pretty sure this is like ridin’ a bike. But if ain’t, we’ll figure it out together. Been a while for me too.”
“Ten years?” Now, there’s a challenge swirling with the desire in her gaze. Her hands skim over my pecs and ease the flannel down my arms before she presses a kiss to my left shoulder, turning me towards the light. “This is beautiful.”
The phoenix inked all the way down my left arm is new—part of my recovery from the injuries that almost took my life—and having her trail kisses along the majestic bird’s wings is both a comfort and the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
“Had to do something to prove I lived through the last four months.” My voice is rough, the Wranglers strangling my dick every time I shift—or breathe.
“If I don’t get these jeans off soon, I’m gonna be in a world of hurt, darlin’.” I hook my thumbs in my belt loops, but my mouth falls open when Isabel drops to her knees and tugs the denim down my legs. She’s eye level with the very obvious tent in my boxers, and shit. I don’t want her on her knees. She deserves to be worshipped.
“On the bed, darlin’. We’re notthereyet.”
“This is for both of us, remember?” she asks. “You don’t know what I like.”
Inclining my head, I offer her my hand and help her up. “So tell me. While I taste you.”
“Connor!” she yelps when I scoop her up in my arms and set her in the center of the bed. “Please tell me that wasn’t as loud as I think it was…”
“Itprobablydidn’t carry into the next room,” I say with a grin. At Isabel’s horrified expression, I trail my knuckle along her cheek. “We can stop. No reason to hurry. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“I don’t want to stop.” Trailing her fingers over my chest, she traces the scar just under my ribs. “If this whole terrible situation has taught me anything, it’s that life is too short to wait for the perfect time foranything. If we’re ever safe again—” A low growl vibrates in my chest, and she corrects herself. “When we’re safe, I’m going to cook you dinner. We’re opening the good bottle of wine. And then I’ll light the expensive candles on the white silk tablecloth that’s been in the cabinet since I bought it, and if either one of us spills the blackberry cobbler, so be it.”
“Blackberry cobbler, huh?” I slide one of her bra straps off her shoulder so I can kiss a line from her collarbone to her ear. “Sounds mighty fine, darlin’. Better than perfect. Just like you.”
Straddling her, I let her feel how much I want her—how much I need her.
Her nipples pebble under the black silk and I dip my head to fasten my lips around one tight nub. Isabel arches her back, and the position allows me to slip a hand under her and flick open the bra catch. “So about what you like,” I murmur when there’s nothing between us but her panties.
“That’s….oh yes.” Tangling her fingers in my hair, she twists the short strands until the first pinpricks of pain dance along the back of my head. “Don’t make the other one jealous.”
I laugh and toss the bra to the floor. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” My tongue traces a lazy circle around the dusky skin, and goosebumps race down her neck all the way to her mound. “Harder? Softer?”
“Harder. Definitely harder.” Her voice spurs me on, driving me to score my teeth over the rosy bud. Isabel claps her hand over her mouth and moans. Fuuuuck. If that isn’t the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard…
I explore her body, kissing a trail down to the top of her panties. “You’re perfect, darlin’. And God, you smell amazing.”
