Free Heard It All Before by Michele Grant Page A

front of me in no time flat. “Is it my imagination or did you lock that door?” Um, he was working that baby-come-to-bed voice. He loosened his tie and threw it over his shoulder.
    â€œI locked the door.” I barely got the sentence out before he grabbed me and kissed me like he was walking the Sahara and I was a truckload of Evian. Wow—wait a minute! My plan, you see, had been to tease and leave. Drop the coat, swap a little kissy-face, then exit with a “See ya later, playboy.” Just like he did. But, um, he had me backed up against the wall, and his hands were doing incredible things, and his kisses were ... Whoa, boy! “Gregory!” This was one of those speak-now-or-forever-hold-your-peace moments.
    â€œHmmm?” He had the flimsy straps down my shoulders, and his mouth was sliding down my neck. I was fading fast.
    â€œWe can’t do this here?” Damn, I meant to make that sound like a statement. His lips were introducing themselves to my breasts, and good Lawd! He had amazing technique. They were very pleased to make his acquaintance.
    He turned me around and shuffled me backward before maneuvering us down on the sofa. “Oh, we’re going to do this here.” He whipped off his jacket and tossed it to the side. Without thinking, I started undoing his shirt buttons; mere seconds later, the shirt joined the jacket. He kicked off the loafers and turned his attention back to me. Easing down over me, he did that body-slithering thing I loved so. “We’re gonna do this, Renee. Right here, right now,” he repeated, making it sound like a definitive statement. That’s what I was trying to do earlier.
    That big hand was sliding up my thigh slowly, slowly—bull’s-eye, like an old pro, he unsnapped the teddy and peeled it back. That was it. I was done for. Any plan I had of leaving this room with a kiss and a promise was GONE. Listen, this boy possessed skills . Perfect suction on the breasts, exquisite pressure right where I needed it, and those fingers ... those long, thick, incredibly inquisitive and sensitive fingers with an impeccable sense of timing. This intense attack on my entire mind and body went on for I didn’t know how long. I heard all these little gasping, groaning sounds and was shocked to find they were coming from me! I heard him chuckle, a deep, very macho, self-satisfied sound.
    This was totally unlike me. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I generally enjoyed sex, but I rarely surrendered myself totally to the pleasure of it. Just lying back and letting some man run amuck with my physical and emotional well-being? Never, not me. His mouth left my breast and started sliding down my stomach. I had to get a hold of myself; if I let him go where he was heading, I would never regain an ounce of control.
    If I had ever been shy before, I gave up all pretense of it now. I shifted a little, reached down, grabbed his belt buckle, and dispensed with that. His pants were unbuttoned and unzipped hastily. “Get rid of those NOW!” It was a demand, nothing less. Shit, playtime was over.
    His head came up and he grinned. “Impatient, are we?” Asshole. I felt his impatience lying against my hip. I reached down into his boxers and raked my nails lightly across the entire glorious length of him before holding the very pulse of it in my hand, stroking ever so slowly.
    â€œAren’t we?” I countered cattily as he sucked in a breath and released it in what sounded pretty much like a moan. Yeah, there we go, player. Let me see you lose some of that Ivy League composure for a minute.
    â€œDon’t play, Renee.” His thumb zeroed right in on the spot most likely to make me beg.
    â€œThen come on with it.” I refused to beg, but I could certainly make an urgent demand or two.
    â€œLet’s slow down,” he said, and tried to back out of my hold. I tightened my grip.
    â€œWe’ve had two months of