Page 39 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
“Do you like this?” he asked.
His tongue lifted and was briefly replaced with a brush of his beard, tickling her folds. She squirmed, but he held her bottom tight.
“Oh . . . my . . .” she moaned.
Then his tongue swept over her, moving back and forth with quick, firm stokes. Her body rose to the edge, and he drew back. His beard brushed over her increasingly sensitive skin. One swift pass over her and then fast strokes reminiscent of a vibrator returned.
“Dominic!”
The pleasure peaked as if it had been waiting for her to call his name. And he continued to lick and stroke, holding her tight, offering another gentle press of his fingers to draw out the . . .
“Oh,” she groaned as the pitch-perfect feeling faded.
He released her and she lay with her lower body hanging off the edge of her coffee table and her upper half melting into the wood.
“You did it wrong,” she murmured. “The table is still in one piece.”
He laughed. Then she heard movement and sat up, sliding off the coffee table and onto the floor. He looked ready to push off the ground. She reached out, clasping his wrist. “Where are you going? It’s your turn.”
He glanced over her shoulder. “What time did my sister need you at the bar for inventory?”
“Ten.”
He nodded to her mother’s old clock hung on the living room’s far wall. “It’s nine forty-five. You slept in while I was setting up your lights.”
“Slept in?”
“That’s what happens when you start sleeping again. You can’t stop. Or so I’ve heard. You’d better get dressed now. I’ll drop you off on my way to breakfast. And I’ll have my dad cook you up something so you don’t go hungry.”
She turned and flashed a wide grin. “That w
as my breakfast. It was called ‘Oh . . . My . . . Dominic.’ ”
He shook his head. “Breakfast of champions.”
“Don’t worry,” she called as she raced to her room. “You’ll get yours after my shift.”
It wasn’t until she’d returned to the front door fully dressed that she realized what she’d done. She’d opened her closet without worrying what might jump out at her. For the first time in six weeks, she felt safe and happy.
And the man responsible was sipping a to-go cup of coffee while he stared at her coffee table.
“Trying to figure out how we’re going to break it tonight?” she asked.
He nodded as if she’d asked him about the position of her new outdoor lights. “I have a few ideas.”
Chapter Twelve
DOMINIC WALKED UP the porch steps he’d built alongside his father back in high school. They’d gone from one project to the next after his mother died. His mom had made list after list of plans, things they could tackle later, when his father wasn’t so busy at the station. And they’d done them all. After he graduated, Dominic had tried to involve Josie, mostly to keep an eye on her while she was grounded.
He paused on the top step and stared out into the yard. They’d started with a vegetable garden, and then moved on to larger construction projects, him and his dad both trying to stave off the heartache and loss.
After spending another long night on Lily’s couch fighting the urge to climb into her bed, then getting up at dawn to install a camera on her front porch and floodlights in her yard, he needed a shower and a nap. Lily was with Josie for now, completing the inventory at the bar. But Dominic had promised he’d be at Big Buck’s in time to help her set up. Josie and Noah had a meeting at a brewery up by Portland, and Caroline wasn’t due in until close to five o’clock. Not much need for a dishwasher on a quiet weekday afternoon.
But he could smell the fried eggs and bacon from here. And his dad’s cooking still trumped sleep in his book. Dominic pushed open the door. His father stood by the stove, an apron covering his police uniform as a line of fried eggs sizzled on the skillet. Three placemats sat on the four-top in the kitchen.
“Where’s Lily?” his dad asked.
“Work.” He sank into a chair as his father plated breakfast.
