“Since my mom worked most nights, on the nights she had off, she and I always did the dishes together. From the time I was about seven on. Some of my fondest memories are standing at the sink with her.”
Such a sweet boy. Celia was beginning to suspect that sweet, helpful, loving boy still lurked under Kyle’s miles of muscles.
She rinsed the pan and handed it over to him. She wiped down her side of the counter, lost in thought about a blond-haired boy helping his mom.
“Got a pretty preoccupied look on your face, wife.”
“Only because you missed a spot over there and I’m figuring out the best way to point it out, bein’ as we’re getting along so well.”
A towel snapped close enough to her butt that she felt the whoosh of air.
“Hey. Watch it.”
“I am. You have the most bitable ass I’ve ever seen.”
Celia ignored him and the renewed quickening in her pulse. As she went to wipe off the table, Kyle picked her up and sat her on it. “What are you doin’?”
“Having an after-dinner treat.” He hooked his foot around his chair, dragging it to the end of the table. Then he settled himself between her knees. “Unbutton this shirt that you’re wearing,” he said in that deep, sexy rasp. “It’s in my way.”
Celia watched Kyle’s eyes as she unfastened every button. He licked his lips when her br**sts were exposed and his grip on her knees increased when she was completely bared.
He tugged a lock of her hair free, letting it fall over her breast so just the tip of her nipple peeked out. He did it to the other side and murmured, “So pretty.”
Would she ever get used to his offhand compliments? Every once in a while she had to remind herself that this was Kyle, the man who had constantly questioned her femininity over the years, now lavishing praise on those feminine bits.
“Why’d you give me that look?”
She glanced at him and lied because she didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Because I bet I look weird perched on this table naked.”
“You look mighty tasty to me.” His big hands pushed her thighs farther apart. “Scoot down.”
“Why here? Why not the bedroom?”
“Because I can finally touch you whenever the hell I want.” He rubbed his smoothly shaven cheek between her hipbones. “And I want now.”
Even his silver tongue was coated in honey today.
After placing hot, openmouthed kisses on her ribs, he said, “Bring your ni**les to my mouth.”
Celia straightened, using his broad shoulders to steady herself as she did his bidding, loving that command in his voice, loving the heat in his eyes.
Her hair brushed his face. Kyle didn’t bat the strands away; he crushed a handful in each fist. His tongue snaked out to flick the tip of her left nipple. Swirling bigger circles until the top of her breast was damp. Hot. Achy. Then he zeroed in, sucking on that hard crest. When she attempted to pull away because the intensity was too much to bear, his grip on her hair kept her in place.
That tiny bit of pain and his show of control over her turned her inside out. Turned her on in a way she couldn’t fathom.
Each lick, each suck, each nip of his teeth made her squirm. She’d never considered her br**sts sensitive. Breck spent little time on them and she’d assumed it’d been because they were small. But Kyle’s attention was damn close to worship. And she loved every torturous second of it.
Her skin beaded. Her pu**y heated. She wanted his fingers there. She wanted his mouth there. She wanted his c**k there.
Kyle murmured, “Problem?”
“You’re making me crazy.”
“It’s good for you to be a little crazy for me.” He stood and kissed her. Curling his hands around her face, covering her ears so all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing and the staccato rhythm of her heart.
These consuming kisses were on another level of passion. One where her mind was blessedly blank to everything but the next thrust of his tongue, the next glide of his lips as he changed the angle of his head to kiss her deeper.
Kyle backed off, leaving her head buzzing and her mouth tingling. He brushed her hair over her shoulders, running his hands down the length, from her scalp to where it pooled on the table. It seemed to ground him, to soothe him, as he simply stroked her hair. While everything about this man revved her up.
Celia took a deep, quiet breath when he returned to his chair. His taste lingered on her tongue. His scent on her skin. Another, sweeter scent teased her nose, mingling with his male musk.
Strawberries.
His rough-tipped finger traced her slit. “You’re wet. I like it that you’re wet.”
A wicked idea popped into her head and she went with it.
She plucked a whole strawberry from the bowl.
“You takin’ a snack break?” he intoned dryly.
“No.” Celia ran her tongue around the plump red berry like she was licking the head of his cock. “I know you said you don’t like fruit.” She pressed the pointed end of the strawberry into her pu**y. Then she offered the berry to him. “See if that improves the taste for you.”
Kyle’s eyes flashed fire and his hand circled her wrist. But instead of pulling it to his mouth, he directed it to hers in a dare. “You first.”
Using the tip of her tongue, she delicately licked her juices from the fruit, adding a throaty little, “Mmm,” just to see if it had any effect on him.
“More,” he said in that guttural rasp.