Run To You

“You’re beautiful, Boots.”
    She tried to close her legs from his scrutiny, but his palms on the insides of her thighs stopped her. His hands moved down slowly, until his thumbs parted her and touched her slick pleasure button. She sucked in a breath and he smiled. “You like that?”
    She licked her dry lips and nodded.
    “Have you ever been eaten up by a man who truly enjoys his work?”
    She nodded, then shook her head. God, she didn’t know. What did that even mean? He cupped her behind in his big hands and showed her exactly what it meant. He parted her slick flesh and kissed her there. Her back arched off the bed and he slid them both to the edge and knelt on the floor with her legs over his shoulders.
    “Oh my God,” she moaned as he worked her over with his hot mouth. Pleasure built inside her and sizzled as it worked its way to the surface of her skin. “Do that! Yes. There. Don’t stop!”
    He laughed and bit the inside of her thigh. From between her legs, he lifted his gaze. “I know what I’m doing, Stella.”
    Yes. Yes, he did, and he got back to doing it. He sucked her into his mouth and licked and stabbed her with his tongue, over and over until her eyes rolled back in her head. “Holy frijole y guacamole!” A searing orgasm burned through her veins, flashing across her skin from her head to the tips of her curled toes. Her back arched and she couldn’t breathe. “Oh my God!” His hot mouth sucked the pleasure from her body in pulsating waves. It consumed her mind, body, and soul. She moaned something. Something that in a state of delirious euphoria might have sounded like “Beau . . . yes . . . gahh . . . I love you!” Then her brain shut down and all she could do was feel. Delicious hot pleasure that left her gasping and her heart pounding as she finally came to. She felt a soft kiss on the inside of her knee and opened her eyes.
    “You okay?”
    She rose to her elbows and looked down her body at him; his face was turned into her leg but his sleepy gray eyes stared back at her. Okay? She was probably going to be okay, but never the same. “Did I just say ‘I love you’?”
    “It happens.”
    She sat up with as much dignity as possible and slid her legs from his shoulders. “It’s never happened to me.”
    “I got skills.”
    Her hair fell over her face and she pulled it to one side of her neck. “Mad skills.” She slid off the bed and leaned forward to kiss his shoulder. She knelt in front of him and ran her hands over his hard arms and chest. She was eager to see if she could get him to moan and groan and lose control of his brain.
    “Sit on the bed, Beau. I do my best work if my hands are free to touch you where I want.”
    He stood, and she buried her face in his flat stomach. She reached around and grabbed both cheeks of his hard behind. A thin line of dark blond hair circled his flat stomach and tailed lower. He was all hard muscles and tight, tan skin. He was beautiful. Like a guy in a military calendar. Mr. September. All bronze and hot and sculpted.
    Her open mouth slid down his lower belly, and she slipped her palms down the backs of his legs, then up again. Touching here. Brushing there. Light touches that were meant to drive him crazy. She pulled back to look up at him. At his sleepy eyes and precise breath. He was all controlled lust and she wrapped her hand around thick erection and slowly moved her palm up and down the hot shaft. She wondered if he ever lost control. Went crazy. She ran her tongue up his engorged penis and licked the sticky bead of moisture from the cleft. His eyes got a little darker. A little more stormy, and she asked, “Ready?”
    He locked his fingers behind his head and spread his feet shoulder-width apart. “Do your worst.”
    She smiled and ran her tongue up and down the length of him. She had a few mad skills of her own. Some she’d learned, others she read about in Cosmo and Redbook and was curious to try. She used the underside of her tongue on the sweet spot just below the head. He sucked in a breath and she sucked him into her mouth. She looked up at him watching her. She used her hands and tongue and mouth to drag a tortured groan from deep in his throat. The more she worked him over, the more she liked it. The more she liked it, the more she wanted more. His hands fell to the side of her head and he tangled his fingers in her hair. He said something about how good it felt, but he didn’t lose control. Not even when she