Page 70 of Puppy Love

“Uptight?” he said.

“I mean, you are the one freaking out over a tiny pump while there’s a hot and willing honey trap on your sleeping bag.”

Hot? Willing?This woman had no idea what she was doing to him over here.

…or maybe she did. The coy lift to her brow turned downright taunting. “Or is it Bubbles watching us that you object to? I gotta warn you, Harrison, you can’t kick her to the curb every time you bring a woman to your bed. I guess, if you’re one of those guys who just gets in there and bam-bam, crank-crank, finishes the job, it won’t matter so much. But I was sort of hoping you’d be the kind who takes his time—”

“Sophie Vasquez, if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to…” He trailed off, struggling to think of a punishment that would vindicate a fraction of the things she was making him feel right now.

“What will you do to me?” she purred. She shifted onto her knees and drew so close they were practically kissing. Her breath was warm against his mouth, her lips a smile against his. “You’ll bam-bam, crank-crank, finish the job? Don’t worry—I’m ready. I promise to come the moment you enter me.”

There was nothing for it then but to give up. Give up, give in, give this woman everything she demanded and more. He could go to his grave knowing that he’d fought his valiant best—and that his valiant best wasn’t even close to enough to defeat a woman like Sophie.

He acknowledged his helplessness by touching his mouth to hers and kissing her until both of them were breathless. He didn’t know if it was the close air of the tent or if kissing Sophie would always leave him with a whirling head and no sense of his surroundings, but he was forced to push her to the ground so they both had somewhere to rest.

There wasn’t so much space in the tent that they had much in the way of room to navigate, but it didn’t seem to matter. She accepted the full weight of him as if he were nothing, bore the press of his body as a delight rather than a burden.

Harrison paused to unzip her jacket, his fingers shaking like he was some goddamned teenager who’d never felt up a woman before. Sophie didn’t help matters any by moaning and arching her back, the warm jut of her breasts—Lady and the Tramp—tempting him into skipping his slow, sultry plan of disrobing her piece by piece. As much as he would have liked to take his time with each button, exposing her soft skin in inches, he didn’t have the willpower.

So he yanked. Her oversize white shirt popped open with a satisfying scatter of buttons around the tent. The delicate band of a pink, lacy bra peeped up at him, encouraging him to explore with fingers, lips, tongue,teeth.

“This is not the kind of bra you’re supposed to wear camping,” he said in the absence of more appropriate commentary. A better, more sophisticated man might whisper sweet nothings or compare the dips and valleys of her body to the majestic mountains all around them, but no one had ever accused Harrison of being sophisticated.

“Yes, but itisthe kind of bra you wear when you’re trying to tempt a man into fucking you.”

His mouth grew dry at the harsh yet sweet resonance of that word on her lips.Fucking.Not rolling in the hay. Not tumbling in the sheets. Not even making love. This sweet, beautiful woman was revealing more than just a tempting pair of breasts swelling out of a lace bra. And Harrison—God help him—loved it.

He groaned and ran his fingers down the midline of her stomach, her skin warm and impossibly soft. That feeling of heat and silk only increased the farther south he went, skimming past her navel and down the gentle swell of her belly. By the time he managed to reach the top lace of her underwear, she was scorching.

Although he was scorching too, he forced himself to take a deep breath and slow down. Sophie might think she could taunt him into making a botched, rushed job of this, but no matter how animalistic his urges tended to be, he was still capable ofsomerestraint.

“I’m a man of honor, goddammit,” he said as he moved back up her body. He intended to make that same journey, over her bra and down to her panties, but this time, he was going to do it with his mouth. “I want to taste you. I want to savor each limb.”

Sophie’s body shook with laughter, all those soft, rounded parts quivering against him. Burying her hands in his hair, she stroked and teased her nails against his scalp. “Oh, dear. I had no idea you were capable of so much eloquence. All that reserve was just part of your plan to lure me in, wasn’t it?”

He yanked himself out of her grasp and tugged her jeans down her hips. Without bothering to remove her pants all the way, he laid his hand flat against the soft upper swell of her mons, eliciting a gasp. “I amnoteloquent.”

“No?” she asked and tipped her head back against the ground, grinding her hips upward until his hand was forced to move lower. Even through the thin satin of her panties, he could feel how wet she was, how ready. “Darn. I was looking forward to it. I guess you’d better spread my legs and fill me with your mighty oak instead. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

He was in the middle of doing just that when he stopped. “Whatdid you just call it?”

“Your thundering maple,” she replied, her head tipped back in ecstasy as his hand lay heavy against the wet heat of her. “Your turgid member, your one-eyed snake, the purple menace. I need it hard, Harrison, and I need it now.”

“Purple menace?” he echoed.

“Well, I can’t see it from here, obviously, but I’ve pictured it plenty of times. Would you mind if I make a more detailed survey later? I need you.”

He proved powerless against a supplication like that one. “Your wish is my command—as long as you return the favor.”

“Oh? And what do you wish?” The gentle mockery in her tone indicated she had no intention of doing anything she damn well didn’t want to.

“You. Naked. In the sleeping bag. It’s going to be a tight fit to squeeze both of us in there, but I’ve never known a tight fit to be unpleasant where sex is concerned.”

“Oh, you sweet talker, you,” she teased.

Her movements as she removed her clothing were not designed to entice a man. She didn’t coyly expose her skin one inch at a time, and she didn’t shimmy or shake as she pulled her jeans over her hips to showcase the rounded curves of her ass. Her movements were neat and efficient and even more seductive because of it.

All those parts of her that had been brought to his attention over the past few weeks—her naked shoulder and her bared neck, the sweet curve of her back and her strong, capable legs—hit him at once with their perfection. Not becausetheywere perfect, but becauseshewas.