Other times he’d start kissing her neck and keep moving south until his mouth was between her thighs. Definitely erotic, feeling him sucking and licking her sex when she couldn’t see his head beneath the covers and she was still floaty in that morning sleep haze.
“Jess?”
Her cheeks flamed when she looked at him, standing in the doorway with Landon on his hip. “Ah.
What? I was just changing.”
He smirked. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking about. And to add fuel to the fire, his gaze idly drifted over her, head to toe, with a blast of heat strong enough that she had to hold on to the dresser to keep from jumping him.
Landon grunted, breaking their connection. “Anyway, what did you need?”
“Nail clippers. Landon’s fingernails and toenails are like claws.”
“I’ll get them.” She couldn’t resist kissing Landon’s damp, rosy cheek as she passed by him. She couldn’t resist pressing her mouth to Brandt’s full lips.
Brandt’s eyes held pure pleasure. “What was that for?”
She didn’t say, For turning me on in more ways than I ever dreamed possible. Instead, she just gave him the same kind of smirk he’d given her.
Despite his late nap, Landon was tired and Brandt put him down at his usual time. She was in the kitchen, flipping through a cookbook, when Brandt moved in behind her.
“What’s cookin’? Need any help heatin’ things up?”
“You’re funny. I’m looking for a recipe for a pear tart. I’ve got all these ripe pears I need to use up.
And you seem to like sweet stuff.”
“Mmm. I can think of one sweet thing in particular I like to eat. A lot.”
Jessie blushed.
“I love it when you blush.”
“I know, it gives me some color and I don’t look so pasty white.”
Brandt slapped her butt. “Don’t say shit like that or I will spank you and turn your other cheeks red.
It’s sexy as hell how you’ll let me do anything to your body that I want, but if I talk about it, you blush. But since you’re usually dressed when I’m teasin’ you, I wanna know if that blush covers your whole body.”
He kissed the section of skin below her ear. “So let’s find out. Take your pants off.”
“What? You can’t possibly be—”
“Oh, I’m completely serious. And if you don’t take them off, I will.” He nipped her ear. “Now.”
“But—”
“Huh-uh. You’ve got about three seconds.”
Heart pounding, Jessie peeled down the yoga pants and kicked them aside.
He murmured, “Good to see you’re goin’ commando now.”
“You’re a bad influence on me, Brandt McKay.”
“I beg to differ.” His fingers traced the bottom edge of her lacy camisole, from the left side of her waist to the right side, causing her belly muscles to ripple inside and out. He gripped the edges and said,
“Lift your arms,” removing her camisole.
It was weird standing buck-ass nekkid in her kitchen, especially since Brandt was fully clothed. She started to turn around, but he boxed her in.
“Stay like this.” He slid her hands to the edge of the countertop, slipping his knee between her legs in a signal to widen her stance. “Perfect.”
“Brandt—”
“Trust me, Jess?”
It took about ten seconds, but she nodded.
“Good. Close your eyes. Relax.”
She let her eyes drift shut, but she was in no way relaxed. His body shifted as he reached for something on the counter. Then his wonderfully rough hand glided down her bare stomach, stopping to cover her mound. His fingers stroked her cleft, teasing her folds until she felt herself growing wet, heavy with need.
His fingers vanished. Before she could protest, a cool, round object connected with her clit and she gasped, “What is that?”
“No fair peeking. Keep your eyes closed.” Brandt steadily dragged it up and down her slit in a smooth glide that followed the contour of her sex from top to bottom. He whispered, “Does it feel good?”
“Yes.”
His lips feathered hot, moist kisses across her neck. He circled her clit, never too hard, or too soft, exacting the ideal amount of pressure to keep her wanting more. Then he’d slide it down to the juncture of her thighs, using her slick juices to slide back up.
Jessie noticed the rounded object was no longer cool, but warmed from friction against her body. It didn’t feel as hard. It’d become soft, pliable.
“Imagine this is my c**k riding your slit.” He arced it from the opening of her body, up to the top of her pubic bone. Each stroke faster. Shorter. His breath stirred her hair and she had no problem imagining it was Brandt’s c**k gently driving her toward orgasm.
On the next upstroke, he brought that mysterious object up the center of her torso, between her cle**age, over the column of her throat to rest on her lips. She felt the stickiness of her juices, not only on her mouth, but in a trail from her chin to her bikini line.
Brandt growled in her ear. “Lick it.”
Jessie’s tongue darted out and she lapped up the taste of her own musky essence from the warm and rounded slope.
“Bite down.”
Her teeth sank in, and the sweet, earthy taste of pear juice burst in her mouth. A moan escaped as she sucked at the fruit, greedily biting off a chunk of perfect ripeness. The flesh nearly melted against her tongue. The fruit flowed down her throat as she swallowed, but more juice spilled from her lips and dripped over her chin as she stole another juicy bite. And another. And another.
Brandt plucked the fruit away, spun her around and fused their mouths together. The taste of Brandt exploded on her tongue, mixing with the sweetness of the pear and the hint of her own juices. He sucked at her tongue, licking the soft depths of her mouth, guiding them to a new level of lust just with his potent kiss.
And then he gently pressed that squishy, sticky fruit to the top of her pubic bone until pear juice trickled down her cleft in a syrupy stream and dampened her thighs.
Jessie gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss.
Brandt growled, leaving sucking kisses on the sticky trail down her body. He fell to his knees and buried his face in her pu**y.
“Brandt! Oh God.” Jessie’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the counter behind her as she attempted to hold on against his sensual assault.
Brandt’s thumbs pulled the skin back to expose her clit. He lapped the juices—hers and the pear’s—