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“Yes.”
“You are full of surprises today.”
I grin. “Is that a yes?”
“Why not?”
I expect her to find her way to the nearby cabana to take off her clothes. I envision her emerging in a tightly wrapped towel and finding the most shadowed corner of the backyard before she works up the courage to drop the length of terry cloth and jump in the water. But that’s what Becca would have done—if she’d agreed to skinny-dip at all. Not Nia. She kicks her shoes off and under the table, pulls her T-shirt over her head, then shimmies out of her shorts. Suddenly, she’s wearing nothing but a lacy underwire bra in a shimmering cinnamon shade and a pair of matching boy shorts that do a wonderfully inadequate job of covering everything I want my hands and mouth on.
I groan as I reach for the hem of my shirt, wondering how fast I can get everything off and feel her naked against me.
“You’re moving slow,” she taunts as she fiddles with one of her bra straps, flicking it down her shoulder, then the other, so the soft cups cling to her breasts.
“You’re tormenting me.”
Nia smiles, then drops her gaze to my stiff cock. “It’s working.”
Can’t refute that. “Take off the rest. I want you naked.”
At my command, her nostrils flare. Her breathing quickens. She licks her lips as she reaches behind her for the hook.
As I rip my shirt over my head and toss it across a chair, she turns away and manages to unfasten her bra. It slides from her body, baring her back to the shining sun. I’m fascinated by her skin, by its lush pigment, by the hues, shadows, and luster of it.
I can’t stand not touching her for another minute.
Sidling up behind her, I hook my thumbs in her barely there underwear and kiss my way from her shoulder to her neck. “Hurry.”
When I slide her panties over her hips, she shimmies. Her sweet backside sways and moves against me. I skim my hands back up her thighs, planting one on her hip and circling the other around her waist. I’m a tall man with big hands. When I lay my palm flat, I’m hyperaware of the fact that my pinky stretches so, so close to her pussy. Her heat rises up to my fingers.
She draws in a ragged breath. “Evan?”
“Want me to touch you?” I drift a little lower, my fingertip resting a fraction of an inch from her cleft.
“Yes.”
She sounds breathy, aroused. I’m tall enough to peer over her shoulder and see that I’m right. Her chest rises and falls. Her taut, dark nipples shine in the sun. I want her now. My hands and mouth all over her. My cock deep inside her. In my head, I know I can’t rush this; she’s too important. On the other hand, I’m more than eager to dazzle her with orgasms…if I can.
I lower my hand, closing the distance between my touch and her nerve-laden clit. I don’t even try to keep my hungry mouth off her skin. Instead, I drag my lips up her neck and toward her ear. Nia rewards me with a moan and a roll of her hips against my erection.
Pressing against her luscious backside, I skim my fingers down to find her slick folds. She gasps. Shit, she’s soft as silk. I smell her arousal blending with the perfume of flowers in the air. Everything about this moment heightens my senses. I know I’m in the right place with the right woman at the right time.
As I run my fingers into her furrow and gather her moisture, I nip at the sensitive spot below her lobe. “I’ve missed you, honey. I’ve missed the taste of your kiss and the way you call my name when you’re near climax. I’ve missed breathing you in when I’m inside you. I miss feeling close to you. I’ve missed feeling like you’re mine.”
She melts back into me, head braced against my shoulder, eyes closed. “I’ve missed you, too, Evan. More than you know.”
Longing bleeds from her breathy admission. She’s under my spell. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her there.
With a moan, I strum my fingers over her hardening bud. “Want to show me how much?”
Her breath catches. She gives a frantic nod as her body tightens around my touch. Power floods my veins. I’m holding her pleasure in my hand—literally. It thrills me. Becca had so many danger points and no-go zones in bed. Nia seems wide open and ready to do whatever pleases us both. The notion is dizzying.
I lift my free hand to her breast and thumb her nipple relentlessly. I hope she’s sensitive here because I suddenly find myself fascinated. Her weight fills my palm. She tenses and whimpers as I pinch and stroke, envelop and twist the tip.
“Evan…” She reaches back to grip my thigh.
“Feel good?”
“Yeah,” she breathes.
