A single kiss can change everything.
What if it did? What if it didn’t? At this particular juncture in her life, she didn’t know which would be worse, and she wasn’t quite brave enough to risk finding out. On the other hand, she didn’t want to bring this heady interlude to a screeching halt. Purposefully, she swirled a finger through her cup, picking up a sprinkle-studded sample, and offered it to him. “Mama raised me to share and share alike.”
Without breaking eye contact, West took hold of her hand and dipped his head. Before taking his share, he paused. “This could get messy, Reckless.”
“Some things are better messy.”
At his wicked smile, a warning flag fluttered in her stomach. An instant later, he closed his mouth over her finger.
Right then, Roxy realized she’d made a massive tactical blunder. His tongue stroked her skin, circling lower as he slowly sucked her finger deeper into his mouth…to the first knuckle, the second knuckle, and then…sweet heaven…all the way in until the tip of his tongue traced the sensitive web between her fingers and awakened a highly susceptible erogenous zone she’d never known existed. She felt every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue in other areas—her uncomfortably tight nipples, her throbbing clit, a place inside her where need blossomed into a familiar ache.
Her hand went limp in his, and she didn’t put up any fight whatsoever when he uncurled her next finger and drew it into his mouth alongside the first. This time his teeth came into play, and all the sensations doubled. Her eyelids turned heavy. Her breath caught on a whimper—an audible one. He slid her fingers from his mouth by degrees, and when they popped free, his unfairly talented lips curved.
It wasn’t entirely the smile that reminded her she had a stake in this little game they’d started. The light of victory in his eyes factored, too. “My turn,” she said and tried out a cocky smile of her own. “What’d you get?”
“A simple classic.”
“Plain vanilla?”
“America’s favorite flavor.” He eyed her as he picked up his cup and dipped into the heat-softened ice cream. “Open wide.”
She parted her lips, and waited, as he served up a generous taste of simple and classic. But instead of allowing her to lick his fingers clean, he eased them inside her mouth. Her swallow reflex took over, drinking down cool, thick vanilla along with the salt of his skin. The taste of him triggered memories of that morning—of her coming long and hard while he fucked her mouth with those fingers and her body with every inch of his.
Not simple, or classic, but highly addictive. She sucked on his fingers as he withdrew, moaning softly at the feel of him sliding through her lips. But he wasn’t done. He swapped out his fingers for his thumb and pushed in again, just far enough to press against her tongue. Her mouth watered. Her insides melted. This time when he withdrew, he lingered, dragging his thumb over her lower lip. Making it wet. Making everything wet.
“Hungry for more?”
She nodded. “Starving.”
“Which flavor? Unicorn or vanilla?”
“You. I’m craving what only you can feed me.” Her lips barely brushed his thumb as she spoke, but the small caress sent erotic promises to every part of her shimmering for his touch. “Coat my tongue with your taste. Flood my throat. Make a mess of me.”
…
That mouth. He’d never wanted a mouth the way he wanted Roxy’s. Enough to let her use it to torment his throat and jaw while he disregarded every distracted driving law on the books and steered them home with one hand on the wheel and the other inside her blouse, up her skirt, and anywhere else he could reach. Enough to let her tug his T-shirt over his head and sink her teeth into his shoulder while he wrestled the front door open and sent them crashing into the house. When he hiked her up, her arms twined around his neck and her legs encircled his hips. Her skirt retreated to her waist, and his hands slipped under some frilly confection of underwear to get a firm grip on her moving target of an ass. Duly anchored, she settled into his hold and switched to kissing the underside of his jaw.
“My turn,” he rumbled as he navigated them into his bedroom and then braced her against the wall and paid her back in kind with open-mouthed kisses along the side of her neck where she smelled like honeysuckle and tasted like sin. She turned her head and gave him access.
Her pulse drummed a wild rhythm against his lips, enticing him to search out the source of the rapid cadence and see if it pounded just as urgently. He ran his thumb along her collarbone and then dragged his palm down her chest, accidentally snagging a single, stubborn button still securing her blouse. It gave with a soft pop and skipped along the hardwood. “Sorry,” he murmured against her throat but didn’t slow. Instead, he hooked a finger into the front of her bra and tested the clasp nestled there.
“It’s okay. I know how to sew—”
The snap of the clasp breaking cut her off. “Oops,” he murmured. Knowing damn well she could feel his unrepentant smile, he slipped his hand past the now-dangling undergarment to lay claim to the swell of her breast. Her heart hammered against his palm in perfect synchronicity with the echoing pulse under his lips.
“Oops, my ass.” She laughed as he hitched her higher and commenced kissing his way down the center of her chest. “You did that on purpose.” Slim fingers roamed up the back of his neck to sink into his hair. “I think you just committed…I don’t know. Destruction of property or excessive force or something.”
“Those are serious allegations.” He pushed the bra aside and hitched her up a little higher then deliberately bounced her again to prolong the hypnotic sway of her breast—round and
