Page 91 of You'll Be the Death of Me

She pulled back again. “Wait. If we’re dead, is this even going to, um,work? Can you, you know...?” She suggestively trailed off and nodded down at his lap.

He too glanced down and then met her eyes with a determined hunger in his. “That is a good question. I’ve never actually done this dead before, but all current sensations would indicate yes.”

“Excellent.” She went back to kissing him. He squeezed her body to his, his big hands easily spanning her back, gripping her waist, tangling her hair. She moved her hips closer so she was straddling him with no room to spare. Indeed, she could feel full indication all systems were go straining against his pants. Fleeting thought of how it was all possible, the physical mechanics of bodies with no heartbeats rising to the occasion, entered her hazy mind, but the curiosity snapped out when Cole skillfully whipped off her nightgown with one hand.

She tamed her staticky hair left hovering by the sudden motion and found herself straddling his lap naked except for her underwear.

He fell back on his elbows like he wanted to get a better look at her. The heat of his gaze traveled from her belly button up to her pointed nipples and then her face. He may well have beentouching her with his hands for the way it sent her skin rippling with desire. “You’re the type of beauty people write poems about.” He said it like it was a fact he knew thanks to his expertise and something he’d like to try doing himself. He sat up to cup her face and kiss her again and used his other hand to trace along the band of her underwear. He snapped it once, the light sting a stirring thrill on her sensitive skin, before he slipped his thumb inside.

She sucked in a hard breath when he stroked over the swollen seam between her legs. On reflex, she rocked forward, needing to move to absorb the sensation, but he pressed his palm against her chest to hold her in place.

“Stay,” he said.

The command woke something dark in the deepest pit of her belly. He held her gaze, making sure she was on board with whatever turn they had just taken.

She was more than on board. She was ready to follow his lead straight to hell if that’s where he wanted to take her.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.”

The single syllable sizzled through her. It was praise and gratitude and somehow the hottest thing anyone had ever said to her in bed.

He worked his thumb over the tight bundle of nerves between her legs. The sensation burned white hot up through her core and out into every limb. She could hardly handle it. Her breath grew sharp, and she tried to rock forward again.

“Uh—!” he objected, and stiffened his arm still holding her in place. “You said you’d stay, Dell.”

The sound of her name in an ever-so-slightly admonishingtone set her on fire. “Sorry,” she managed to say. The temptation to see what he’d do if she didn’t stay danced in her blood, but the desire to obey him turned her on with a curious tingle she couldn’t ignore. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.”

That word again. It almost undid her.

He kept moving his thumb, dipping into the soft folds between her legs and working delirious circles. Her breath came harder and faster. With his other hand against her chest holding her still, he was too far out of reach for her to get to him. The need to touch him, to release the pressure building to destructive levels low in her belly, left her fraught with lust.

“Cole—” she started to plead.

“Can you come like this?” he cut her off and said with a wicked grin.

“All current s-sensations would indicate y-yes,” she stuttered. She rocked forward as far as she could and gripped his arm holding her in place. She danced on the edge of oblivion. She was either going to explode or die again; she couldn’t tell which.

Cole removed his hands. “Then I’d better stop.”

He left her reeling. She’d been leaning against his stiff arm so hard she fell forward on top of him. “What? Why are you stopping?” she asked as he reached up to push her hair out of her face.

“Because I’m not done with you yet.” In an abrupt move, he wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over. Suddenly, he was on top of her, smiling down.

She couldn’t help grinning up. “Are you sure you’re not the devil?”

“Can’t fully confirm, no.”

Dell laughed and reached for his pants. She got the fly undoneand shoved her hand inside to be met with no doubt all systems were go. She rubbed her thumb over his silky tip and playfully smiled when he shuddered. “You’re a full bloomer now,” she said.

“For you, yes,” he purred, and kissed her throat. He worked his mouth along the column of her neck while she stroked him. He grew harder and hotter in her hand, and when he pushed away from her, she had to force herself to let go.

With a confidence she hadn’t seen from him—other than a few minutes ago when he’d had his hand down her underwear, rubbing her like a magic lamp—he stood from the bed and removed his shirt and his pants. And his boxers. He stood there fully naked, and Dell couldn’t stop staring. His long body had the lean muscles of a rock climber. Someone who carried his strength in his arms and back and had the height to leverage his strong limbs. Looking at his abs and everything south of them, she couldn’t blame him for feeling confident in his skin, becauseholy shit. His demeanor changed; his posture took on a new shape. It was like he’d stripped off the bumbling clerk persona with his clothes and threw it aside. The man who crawled back onto the bed had a hunger in his eyes that made her ache for his touch.

“Hi,” she said, and it was mostly air.