She swallowed, suddenly feeling as though the temperature of the room had shot up twenty degrees. One look—the right look—was all it took from this man, and here she was getting all hot and bothered.
“How is it?” he asked, holding her gaze.
“Not bad.” She gestured to his glass of champagne. “Have a taste.”
He set his glass on the counter. “I think I will.” He hooked his finger into the waistband of her skirt, pulled her closer, and lowered his mouth hungrily to hers.
* * *
CADE HAD BEEN in a state—meaning the horny-as-hell kind of state—since the moment Brooke had answered the door in another one of her hot skirt-and-heels combos. He’d been thinking about getting his hands on her all day, ever since they’d talked, and now here she was, pressed against him, her fingers tangled in his hair as their mouths melded together.
You like her.
Ah, lovely. Another annoying voice in his head, this one sounding suspiciously like Vaughn.
Go away. Got my hands on a woman’s ass here.
Cade turned his head to murmur wickedly in Brooke’s ear. “It seems like such a waste, going out for drinks when we have an open bottle of champagne right here.” He dipped his head lower to nuzzle her neck, which he’d discovered last weekend was her weak spot.
Her head fell back. “Well, when you put it that way . . .” she inhaled when he trailed his lips along her collarbone, “I’d hate to be a party to wastefulness.”
Glad they were in agreement, Cade swept his mouth over hers in a hot, demanding kiss. Brooke wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, so he scooped her up and carried her to the closest piece of furniture he could find—the couch in her living room. He laid her down and climbed over her, tugging at her shirt and sending a button flying in his impatience.
“Crap. I think I might owe you a new shirt.”
“I don’t care about the shirt.” She pulled his mouth back to hers.
That decided, he yanked the shirt open the rest of the way. She moaned when he tugged down one of the lacy cups of her bra, and traced the tip of her breast with his finger. He glided his other hand down, along the silky skin of her navel, then reached underneath her skirt. When he pushed her panties aside, he nearly groaned. “You’re so wet for me already.”
“Probably because I was thinking about you during my business dinner.”
Oh, really? “What kinds of things were you thinking about?” He eased two fingers into her, sliding them in and out in a slow, smooth rhythm. “Maybe it started with me doing this?”
She moaned, yes, and Cade shifted his hand to tease her clit. She reached up and pulled down the other cup of her bra, pushing her second breast up for his hungry mouth, and he greedily sucked on the tight peak. He nipped her gently with his teeth, his erection threatening to bust through his zipper. He wanted all of her tonight, underneath him, on top of him, on her knees—but first things first.
“I’m going to watch while you come,” he told her. He loved seeing her undone like this, and wanted to prolong that just a little more.
She moaned softly, her lips parting as she breathed raggedly. He couldn’t help himself; he bent his head and kissed her. Her tongue wound around his just as she began to shudder in orgasm, and he groaned, feeling her body clench tightly around his fingers, letting him know just how good it would feel when he got inside her.
When she finally came down, he gathered her in his arms and stood up from the couch. His voice had an edge. “Which way to your bedroom?”
With a sly smile, she waved her hand. “Oh, no. I’m good now, thanks. I think I’ll just crash here and watch TV.”
Yep, still as sassy as ever.
“We’ll see about that,” he growled.
She squealed in surprise when he shifted her in his arms and hauled her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry—business skirt and heels and all.
They passed by a den before entering what was obviously the master bedroom, given the four-poster, king-sized bed that was adorned with cream silk bedding and numerous pillows. Without discussion, he dropped Brooke onto it.
She put her hands down to steady herself and stared up at him in disbelief. “You did not just literally carry me in here over your shoulder.”
“Oh, but as we saw, Ms. Parker, I just did.” He got rid of his shirt, not wasting any time, then undid his zipper and kicked off the rest of his clothes. He stood before her, naked and hard as steel. “Move to the edge of the bed.”
The teasing look was back in her eyes. “You seem very ornery again.”
“Brooke,” he said warningly.
The little minx just smiled.
She pushed her shirt off her shoulders and tossed it to the floor, then slid two high-heeled legs off the bed. She walked over to him and brushed her hands over his bare chest. “Maybe I can do something to change that.” Without further discussion, she got down on her knees and took him into her hot, wet mouth.
“Oh, f**k,” he moaned. He threaded his hands into her hair and tried not to explode right there.
Play-action pass. Bootleg. End-around. Quarterback sneak. Christ, this woman is blowing my mind.
He looked down and watched as the sexiest, smartest, most confident woman he’d ever met licked her tongue across the throbbing head of his erection.
It was the hottest moment of his life.
“Stroke your hand up and down,” he told her in a guttural voice. He felt something raw tug at him, a primal need to make her his. He watched as she swirled her tongue over the head, then eased him further in and sucked. “Just like that. Take more of me, Brooke.” She went deeper still, then moved her mouth over him. He closed his eyes, letting his hands fall to his sides as she used her lips, tongue, and mouth to bring him right to the brink.