Yeah, he liked seeing that, too, the sinuous roll of her body as she reached for the orgasm he’d give her. Getting down to business, he gave up the visual of her and instead went back to her nipple, sucking more strongly now.
On a guttural groan, she gripped his hair and kept him locked to her. Knowing she’d like it, he shifted his hand so that two fingers pressed deep, easily because of her wetness. Making sure she wouldn’t miss a beat, he brought his thumb up to her clitoris, softly circling—and she cried out.
Her whole body clenched, one of her thighs closing over his hand, new moisture bathing his fingers with each hot, rhythmic clasp of her body. At every inhalation, her heated scent filled his head.
Filled him.
Christ, she turned him inside out. As the tremors faded and she slowly sank away from him, Stack gave her breast one last, barely-there kiss, and again went to his elbow.
Her breasts were flushed. Pretty.
Sweat dampened her cheeks just beneath her eyes. Sweet.
And her hair... He took his time playing with it, rearranging it around the pillow until finally she got her eyes open.
“Hey.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “It’s hot as hell the way you come.”
That made her blink. She sucked in air, slowly blew it out, then did it again.
Stack smiled. He liked having Vanity Baker disoriented from pleasure. “You okay?”
She stared at him with wonder. “That was...”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t have words.”
Another grin. “I think please is the word you used most.”
“Shush it, mister.”
That made him laugh. Since when did he find sex this amusing? He’d wanted her for so long that he should have been driving deep already. Instead, he said helpfully, “Then how about stupendous? Awesome? Satisfying?”
She sighed dramatically, reached out and laid her palm to his chest, directly over his galloping heart. “All that.” Suddenly her fingers tightened in his chest hair.
He flinched, but quickly stilled. “Ow, hey now.”
Looking stern, she jokingly ordered, “No more playing, Hannigan.” She lightly tugged. “Time to get down to business.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Catching her wrist so she couldn’t render his chest bald, he leaned in.
Her lips parted. So did his.
The obnoxious, unique ringing from his cell made them both jump. And since she still had her fingers caught in his chest hair, he gave a very real grimace.
“I’m sorry!” She turned him loose, only to let out an “oof” when he dropped his head to her breasts.
Catching on real quick, she asked, “What? You can ignore it, right? Tell me you can ignore it!”
He wished. “Sorry, no.” Twisting away from her, he snatched up the phone, glanced at the caller ID out of habit—because he already knew he’d take the call—and swiped his thumb over the screen to answer. “Better be good, Armie, or I swear to God—”
“I’m sorry, dude. Really fucking sorry.”
Yeah, he knew that already, too. Armie wouldn’t have called him, not from the cell with that particular ringtone, without a damned good reason. “Let’s hear it.” The ensuing hesitation made Stack sit up a little straighter. “Armie...”
Finally, Armie said, “Your sis called.”
Seriously? Because it’d been... Stack had to stop and think. But somewhere around six weeks or so had passed since last he’d talked to anyone in his whack-ass family. And that last time, well, it hadn’t been good. He’d managed to alienate himself.
They’d all needed some time, so for the most part he’d been okay with that.
But if Tabitha had called, she had to have a reason. God knew she wouldn’t be the first to break their silent war unless she’d had no choice. “Tell me.”
“She said not to panic, but your mom is in the hospital. She collapsed or something. I tried to get the deets, but she was seriously having a meltdown.”
That would have alarmed Stack more except that Tabby melted down over a broken nail. “I’ll call her.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks.” Stack disconnected and then looked at his missed-calls log. Sure enough, Tabby had called him three times, all while he’d been in the shower with Vanity. And thinking of Vanity...
His hot gaze moved over her perfect form stretched out on the bed, buck-ass naked.
Everything in him protested, because he knew he’d have to go.