He liked her.
With a tug on her hand, Decker prevented her from sitting beside him. Instead, he pulled her onto his lap. She wriggled, as if trying to find a comfortable spot. Her lush ass rooting around on his cock nearly had him groaning and tearing into her clothes like a beast, but he managed to refrain.
“I can’t wait to get this robe off of you and do things to your delectable body that are probably only legal in foreign countries.” Decker winked, then stroked his knuckles along her exposed skin beside the lapel of her robe, over the swell of her breast. “But when you tell me it’s never been really good for you, I want to know what disappointed you in the past. Tell me about the last time you had sex.”
THREE
RACHEL’S BIG, DARK EYES WIDENED WITH SHOCK, AND SHE shook her head. “I’d rather not. You’re going to let me ‘steer,’ so it won’t be an issue.”
As she moved in to kiss him, Decker turned his head just enough to graze the soft skin of her neck with his lips, then he rested them on her lobe. “Even so, you need to give me a little information so I understand what you don’t like.”
She eased back and met his stare, then tried to wriggle off his lap. He tightened his arms around her, and finally, she sighed.
“It was with my ex-husband,” she murmured, looking away. “Owen was always just so . . . serious. I don’t know how to put it. It seemed like something he tolerated more than loved.”
“Which made you feel somehow responsible, so you didn’t enjoy it either?”
Her gaze bounced back up to his, as if he’d surprised her with his perception. It didn’t take a rocket scientist . . . but that deduction was apparently beyond a physicist. Go figure.
“Yes.” She nodded, and he saw a sweet little flush spread across her cheeks. “He didn’t ever want to talk about it.”
Then Owen deserved lousy sex.
“It’s water under the bridge.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
“I don’t think so. Your last time in the sack sucked. Communication is key. We’ve got to have some if you want me to give you a better time. Besides, how are you going to tell me what you want when we’re naked if you can’t say it now?”
She chewed on that plump little lip for a moment. “All right. I don’t think he knew where I was . . . um, sensitive.”
That didn’t surprise Decker, but he had to rein in a laugh at her delicate phrasing. “You mean he didn’t have a clue where your clit was and you wished like hell he did?”
Her blush deepened. “Are you always this direct?”
“I don’t see any sense in beating around the bush.” He grinned. “Especially yours. It sounds like you’d be pretty happy if I could shake it once or twice.”
Though her jaw dropped and she smacked his shoulder, she was smiling. “That’s crude!”
“But honest. How was the rest of your relationship?”
“Well, not too good or we wouldn’t be divorced.”
Oh, sass. How much fun would it be to silence her bratty mouth with a kiss that made her toes curl before he turned her into a pile of goo? “Are you two still civil or did it end too ugly?”
“It’s mostly polite. Owen sometimes loses his temper. I just ignore him.”
And that might really be pissing the ex off. Definitely, he wanted to keep digging here, but couldn’t go too deep now without making her suspicious. When he got a free moment, he’d look up the asswipe and see if his face matched the guy who’d solicited him to commit murder. Until then, he had to tread lightly with the questions about her ex—except sexually. Rachel hid a wealth of repressed desire.
“Did he ever do
“Not really. You’re probably wondering why I married him. My friends back in Florida, where I’m from, asked me that all the time. Owen is eight years older than me, and at first I liked how knowledgeable he seemed, but that didn’t extend to sex. It took me years to realize that he liked to hear himself talk more than listen. When the topic was something he couldn’t pontificate about, he changed it.” She cocked her head and stared. “Do you psychoanalyze every woman before you sleep with her?”
Decker figured that was his cue to shut up. “You said you want a man who listens. I’m trying. How do you think I can give you what you want if I don’t understand you even a little? Do
Rachel reared back. A million thoughts flitted across her face. She looked angry, then sad, then downright confused. Decker held her tighter. She didn’t have a clue what her true desires were, but he’d show her as soon as she got over this ridiculous notion of being in charge.
“It’s orgasm. It shouldn’t be this difficult.”
Was she saying that a man had never given her one? The idea of being the first to succeed damn near made him salivate. Yes, it was probably stupid and unnecessarily territorial, but attraction wasn’t logical. And he didn’t think it was logic she needed as much as a hot, ripe, raunchy fucking. And then to be held.
He smiled. “That depends on you. If you really know what flips your switch and can express it clearly, we’ve got no worries. If you don’t, you may not enjoy sex with anyone until you figure it out.”
“What about you?” she challenged. “You seem like you don’t have any problems just . . . blurting what you want.”
He didn’t blurt, just usually commanded. That wasn’t relevant to the conversation now. She was getting worked up and worried. Time to calm her down.
Brushing his knuckles over the soft swell of her breast again, he watched with satisfaction as goose bumps raised on her arms and legs. “Men are simple. We’re almost always ready. We don’t have swells and folds. Our most sensitive nerve endings aren’t hidden. You pay attention to a guy’s cock, and I guarantee he’s going to like it.”
Rachel pressed her lips together and tried not to giggle, but she failed. “The way you put things . . . My mama would positively expire.”
Decker grinned at her sweet, if exaggerated, Southern accent. “I’m not interested in your mama.”
She smiled but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” That was one demand he didn’t mind giving in to.
• • •
DECKER BARELY PUT his hands on her, and she began to tremble. Everything about him was so strong and masculine and called to the female inside her. Nestled on his lap, she sat just a tad shorter than him. And his wide shoulders made her sigh. He seemed to surround her, make her feel delicate. Though she’d tried so hard to be independent and stand on her own two feet since the divorce, Rachel admitted that she liked feeling tiny in his arms. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to snag his attention, but she would just be grateful to spend the night of her birthday with someone as gorgeous as him and hope there was an orgasm or two in her future. He looked more than capable.
His rough hand gently cradled the crown of her head, strong fingers burrowing into the strands of her hair. With a little tug, he tilted her head back. His mouth hung a breath over hers. She blinked up at him, pulled into his hungry blue eyes with their thick fringe of black lashes. What would his lips feel like on her skin? What would those brawny hands do to her body?
“Tell me how you want me to kiss you,” he whispered.
Rachel frowned. She had to explain it?
“Passionately.”
“Slow? Fast? Deep? Teasing?” he challenged. “You want me to seduce or tongue-fuck that pretty mouth?”
Her stomach clenched. Her sex pulsed. His words alone aroused her.
She gripped his big shoulders, her breath coming fast. “All of it.”
