Free Wild for Him by Jill Sorenson Page B

panties, she started stroking.
    “Are you touching yourself?”
    She stroked faster. “Mmm.”
    “Christ. Don’t come without me.”
    “You’d better hurry.”
    “Are you wet?”
    “Very.”
    “Where do you want me?”
    “Inside me. In my mouth. Anywhere.” She brought her slippery fingers to her lips and sucked them, moaning.
    “Fuck, baby.”
    He was breathing hard into the receiver. She imagined him with his pants around his ankles, his cock in his fist. Then she heard a click, as if the call was dropped. She was about to ask if he was still there when the doorbell rang.
    She sat up in bed, startled. Who would drop by this late?
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “The doorbell.”
    “Ignore it.”
    “I can’t,” she said, putting on her robe. “It could be an emergency. A neighbor might need help.”
    “I need help,” he muttered.
    She hurried down the hall and turned on the exterior light, peering through the peephole. There was a large man standing outside her door. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, and she couldn’t see his face.
    Heart racing, she stood on tiptoe to study the rest of him. He had an erection straining the front of his jeans.
    Retreating in shock, she ducked into the hallway. “There’s a pervert at my door,” she whispered into the phone. “I have to call 911.”
    “Wait—”
    She hung up on Mitch and dialed the number with trembling fingers. The man rang the doorbell again. He started pounded on the door. Oh God.
    “It’s just me,” the man outside said. “Gwen, it’s me.”
    She paused, listening. “Mitch?”
    “Yes! Open the door.”
    When she looked out again, he’d tugged down the hood to reveal his features. She unlocked the door and let him in. “What are you doing here?”
    “I thought I’d surprise you.”
    She smacked his arm. “You scared the shit out of me!”
    “Sorry,” he said, grinning. “I guess I overshot my mark.”
    After a moment of staring at him in disbelief, it dawned on her that he hadn’t dropped by for no reason. He had news to share. He wouldn’t have flown in from Denver just to spend the weekend with her.
    Would he?
    “I got the transfer.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “You did?”
    He nodded. “I’m here for two weeks to check out the expansion site. Then I’m back in Denver for a month. After that, I’ll be in San Diego full-time.”
    She threw her arms around him, unable to contain her excitement. He returned her embrace, laughing. Tears flooded her eyes.
    He was coming back to her. For good.
    “I can’t believe it,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
    “I’m really here. Your very own pervert.”
    She pressed her lips to his, overjoyed. He lifted her against the wall and kissed her back with a hungry growl, his big hands roving over her lace-covered bottom. He was still aroused, his erection jutting at the front of his jeans. After a long, tongue-tangling kiss and some frantic groping, she tore her lips from his.
    “This calls for a celebration,” she said, unbuttoning his fly.
    “Does it?”
    She sank to her knees before him and freed his cock from his briefs. He was rock-hard and pulsing with desire. Instead of teasing him with soft licks, she closed her mouth around him and took him deep.
    He groaned, threading a hand through her hair. “I like the way you celebrate.”
    She sucked him up and down, over and over.
    “I love you, Gwen.”
    Almost choking, she released him. “What?”
    He cupped her cheek. “I love you.”
    “You can’t say that during a blow job.”
    “Why not?”
    “Every man is in love when he’s getting a BJ.”
    “I can wait until you finish, and say it again.”
    She rose to her feet, stunned. He didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. He met her gaze steadily, daring her to dispute him. He was a steady guy. Solid. Too structured, perhaps, but there were worse flaws in a man.
    Gwen hadn’t allowed herself to fall for him until she’d talked to Helena.