Page 38 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
Impossible.
After all these years, after all that had happened, she couldn’t go back to the uncertainty. She refused to wait for him again. Her life was too splintered now. She required long-term. She needed permanence, stability, and trust.
But right now? With her body pressed against the hard muscles that promised protection and pleasure? Safety coupled with seduction from a man she trusted not to hurt her . . .
Well, he might walk away with her heart again. But if he did, that was on her this time. She understood the risks. And she knew when he said “I’m leaving,” he meant it.
But she was willing to take a chance to win a brief reprieve from her constant anxiety.
“I think we’ve reached a compromise.” She lifted her fingers to his lips. “If you don’t trust my mouth on you”—she placed her other hand over the hard ridge beneath his cargo shorts—“I guess we know who goes first. But don’t forget, you had your chance and you tossed it away.”
Dominic captured her hand and held her fingers to his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue ran over the tip of her index finger. Anticipation raced from her hand down to her toes.
“You’re sure about this?” he murmured.
“It’s part of the bodyguard job,” she said before he could remind her that he made a better protector than boyfriend.
He scooped her into his arms and turned to the sliding glass door. “Just remember you asked for this.”
“I have a long list of fears,” she murmured as he lowered her feet to the ground. “Orgasms don’t make the cut.”
She stripped off her drawstring shorts and pale pink underwear. Naked from the waist down, she sat on the edge of the coffee table.
“Here?” he asked as he lowered down to his knees.
She nodded, her gaze fixed on the man kneeling in her living room. His self-imposed uniform only told half the story. Beneath his black cargo shorts and the grey T-shirt that read “ARMY” across the chest, he still possessed the powerhouse body she’d watched on the football field years ago.
But her high school love had always appeared in control. The bearded warrior kneeling at her feet looked as if he’d parted ways with restraint. His hair fell past his chin. And his green eyes held a hint of wicked promise.
“Spread your legs, honey.”
And let me show you how much I love you.
The words floated in on a memory from a time when she’d loved the hero, the high school star determined to join the army, to serve . . . But she quickly pushed it away. Falling in love with that man again? Impossible. He didn’t exist. He’d been replaced with the hardened man who seemed to hold his fear close to the heart, just like she did.
But she still lay back and allowed her knees to drift apart.
His hands ran up her inner thighs and she closed her eyes. When his fingers reached their destination, his thumbs stroked down her center, and then spread her further. She waited for his lips to brush over her.
“Dominic?” she said softly.
His hands pressed against her legs in response. But if he didn’t lick her soon . . .
“It’s been a long time, Lily. Let me look.”
“Dominic,” she growled as she wiggled her hips. It had been a long time for her too. And her body hummed with need. Looking wasn’t going to cut it. She needed his hands, his mouth.
He let out a low laugh. “Impatient?”
But he didn’t wait for her response. His hand wrapped around her waist and he pulled her bottom off the table’s edge.
“What?” she exclaimed as he cupped one cheek in each hand. Then he lowered his mouth, his large body bent over her as if preparing to worship . . . and then he did. He ran his tongue over her, back and forth.
She let everything go. She didn’t need to cry out for him to move a little higher, or dip lower at just . . . the right . . . moment. He remembered. She relaxed into the pleasure, completely at his mercy. His fingers teased her backside, offering a thrill that rocketed forward as his tongue pressed against her, then drew back.
“You still like that,” he murmured.
“I like everything,” she whispered, trying to rock her hips. But he held her steady, maintaining control of every touch, every taste . . .
