“Yes, I want you to stay,” he finally says, his voice a low, husky murmur that slides over my skin and settles deep between my legs. “Tell me you want the same.”
Is this it? The moment I hand over my V-card?
“I want the same,” I say, and lean into him.
Ohmigod, I’m doing this. I’m really doing this.
His hand slides around my neck, and a low tortured moan vibrates around me as he fists my hair and presses his lips to mine. He inches back and asks, “Is that what you were really looking for?”
My mind whirls, races, searches for the truth. On some level was I hoping he’d find me in here and kiss the sanity from my brain, because yeah, what I’m doing isn’t smart. I barely know this guy. Am I really going to get naked with him and hand over my virginity?
“Yes,” I murmur, answering his question as well as my own. He gives me a nudge with his body, backing me until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and that’s when my one working brain cell nudges me. I need to text Peyton. He backs up an inch, reaches over his shoulder and tugs off his shirt, and the second I take in all his hills and valleys, I damn near bite off my tongue. Swallowing hard I lift my phone and he angles his head, confused. “I have to send my friend a text. Girl code.”
“Right,” he says, and I quickly text—torpedo.
I’m about to set my phone down when an eggplant and a thumbs up emoji pop up. A low chuckle climbs out of Landon’s throat. Dammit, he wasn’t supposed to see that. I set my phone down on his nightstand, and take a fueling breath as he closes the distance between us. His body is warm, his fingers hot as he pulls me against him again, and I try not to react like the virgin I am when I feel his hardness press against my stomach.
Strong hands tug on the belt holding the dress together, and a jolt of excitement and nervousness rushes through me.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, as the dress falls away and puddles around my feet. “I need to see you better.”
He makes a move toward his lamp, and I wrap my hand around his arm to stop him. “No lights,” I say, and he hesitates again. “I like this mood better.”
He runs his knuckles down my arms and goosebumps break out on my flesh. God, I love the way this guy touches me. Although I have nothing to compare it to.
“Yeah?” he asks. “You like it in the dark?”
“Yeah, and I think it will be more fun to feel my way around,” I say, and he chuckles lightly as I put my hands on his chest. His muscles ripple beneath my fingers as I begin an exploration, starting with his chest, my fingers moving over all eight abs until I reach his pants. I hesitate for a brief second, and he takes my hand and slides it lower, until I’m cradling his cock through his jeans.
Damn that is nice—and big. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? I guess I’ll soon find out.
I take my time to explore him, and a new kind of eagerness builds inside me. Suddenly anxious to see him naked, I pop his button, but he grips my hand and stops me. My heart speeds up as my gaze jerks to his.
“I need my mouth on you before anything,” he says, and slides one hand around my body, to pull me against him. His hungry lips find mine again, devour my mouth, bite at my lip. Tomorrow I’ll have marks and I’m not even upset about that.
His lips leave mine and travel downward. Using his thumbs, he lightly brushes my hard nipples through my bra and a moan I have no control over rises in my throat and seems to excite him. His soft chuckle whispers over my skin as he reaches behind me and in one swift movement, he removes my bra. Apparently his nimble football hands are adept at many things, but I don’t want to think about that right now. Nope, I can’t think about it. Not when he’s staring at my breasts like they’re a big hot fudge sundae and he hasn’t eaten in days.
Lord help me.
“Such perfect tits. I might want to fuck these,” he murmurs as he holds them and bends to take a hard nipple into his mouth. Mercy. Do all guys talk like him? Do I even like that?
Ohmigod, I do.
His tongue swirls, his teeth nip and I shut my eyes against the onslaught of pleasure. I’ve touched myself before, of course, but nothing has ever felt this good. The heat of his mouth sears my skin, and I feel the pull all the way to the needy spot between my legs. I breathe in his intoxicating scent as he moves from one nipple to the other. My hips roll instinctively, searching for…something.
Landon’s hands slide down my body and grip my hips, his fingers biting into my flesh as he holds me still, like my movements are just too much for him. While I’m not sure if that’s true, I work to roll them again, to bump up against his hard cock, and he tears his lips from my nipple.
“You are so fucking sexy and if you keep that up I’ll be done before I’ve even started.”
Oh.
I smile secretly, liking this effect I have on him. He stands to his full height, and my body is flush with his as he slides his hands down my back. A hard shiver goes through me as his fingers dip into my panties, and I toss up a silent prayer of thanks that I wore my only pretty pair. Maybe I should have let him turn the lights on and see my body, my lace underwear—my face.
Nope, not going to do anything to ruin this night. I’m still not sure which twin he thinks he’s with and I’ll deal with that dilemma later. When my body is not screaming for his touch. When my pesky V-card is not begging me to get over myself and make love already.
Make love?
Oh, what a joke. I am not stupid enough to think this is anything other than sex, or that this isn’t a one-night thing. The ballers are all a bunch of man whores with revolving bedroom doors. He nudges my panties down, sliding to the floor with them. His mouth is inches from my sex, his breath hot on my mons as he taps my legs for me to lift. I lift them one at a time and he tosses my scrap of lace over his shoulder.
I take a deep breath as his thumb goes to my wet pussy, and he casts a quick glance up at me. Fearing he can sense my nervousness, I put my hands on his shoulders and squeeze, giving him encouragement. But all my unease fades away the second his scorching hot tongue makes contact with my clit.
“Ohmigod,” I say out loud and his chuckle reverberates through me.
“Like that do you, Angel?”
“Yes,” I pant. “More please.”
I catch his grin in the dark before he buries his face between my legs again, and I close my eyes. Angel. Yeah, maybe that’s the perfect name because I sure as hell feel like I’m in heaven. I run my hands over his broad shoulders, loving the way his muscles bunch beneath my hands. He tongues me, and I grip his hair, and pull him against my pussy a little harder. Dear God, who am I? I don’t know and I don’t care.
I want this.
I want him.
Before I even realize what’s happening, I’m on his bed, and he’s widening my legs with his body, pushing my thighs open until I’m on full display. A loud, tortured growl crawls from the depths of his throat. I wish I could see him. I wish I could see the look on his face as he takes in my nakedness with his fingers. I’ve never been ashamed of my body. I’ve just never really been the object of a guy’s attention before.
His big hands slide up my thighs, and I let loose a moan as he presses the rough tip of his finger to my clit. I toss my head from side to side, and grip the bedding. “Do you like what I’m doing to you, Angel?” he asks.