his hand on her behind, caressing her. Thank God, Grimshaw was out playing somewhere, otherwise he’d need to spend a few minutes greeting the dog and he just didn’t have the patience right now. Poor Grimshaw had become especially needy since Granny’s passing, and Ozzie never ignored his feelings.
But right now, he had only one thing on his mind.
After moving into Granny’s house, he’d taken his old bedroom, the first at the top of the landing. That’s where he went now to dump Marci on the big brass bed.
She surprised him again by withholding all arguments. Instead, she began stripping away her clothes with the same frenzied need he felt.
Perfect.
Watching Marci as she twisted and turned on the bed in her efforts to get rid of her sweatshirt, Ozzie reached over his shoulder, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and yanked it off.
With her sweatshirt bunched above her breasts, Marci paused to watch him.
“No, don’t stop.” Putting one knee on the bed, he hauled her into a sitting position and easily removed the roomy top, leaving her in low-slung jeans and a sexy white lace bra.
To Ozzie, she looked like an advertisement. She looked like raw temptation. She looked…like a fantasy about to happen.
A small, feminine smile tilted up the corners of her mouth and her eyes grew smoky as she watched him through lowered lashes. Baby-fine hair hung over her naked shoulders and her breasts quivered with her deepened breathing.
He could see her nipples, stiff and rosy, against the thin bra cups. His chest expanded, his erection grew. Blindly, his gaze glued to her breasts, he popped open the front closure of her bra and at the same time, bent to take one nipple into his mouth.
On a soft gasp, Marci arched her back. Her fingers sank into his hair and together they went down onto the mattress. He wished they were already naked, but he couldn’t seem to give up this pleasure to advance his position. She tasted better than perfect, and the small sounds she made, the way she squirmed, burned him.
He switched to her other breast, then stroked one hand down her narrow rib cage, to the waistband of her jeans, then onto the denim to stroke that fine behind.
“Osbourne?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
“I’ve waited long enough,” she whispered. “Let’s get naked.” Her hands roamed his shoulders before going to his neck and back into his hair. “I want to touch all of you.”
A shock of electricity couldn’t have jolted him more. In a nanosecond, Ozzie was off the bed. Their hands tangled as they both tried to attack the fastenings to her jeans. Ozzie gripped her wrists, pressed them upward to lie beside her head, and said, “Let me.”
With another contented smile, she settled into the covers and let him take over. Impatience had her squirming as he opened her jeans, got them down as far as her knees, and paused to look her over again.
“Osbourne…”
He stripped away the jeans.
Her panties matched the now-open bra. His gaze scorched her; his hand followed in the same path. From the inside of her left knee, up her thigh, over her belly and to a plump breast. She felt silky and warm, and so damn soft.
He actually trembled.
Forcing himself to a modicum of patience, Ozzie cupped his hand over the crotch of her panties.
Hot.
His guts clenched, and he accepted the inevitable. “I’m sorry, babe, but this is going to be fast and hard.”
“Good.”
Her agreement nearly laid him low. “I’ll make it better later.” And with that, he skimmed off her panties, and knew he wouldn’t last more than a minute.
Marci edged her arms out of her bra straps while he finished undressing. He placed his pager, cell, and gun on the nightstand. When he dropped his jeans and boxers he heard her sharp inhalation, but he didn’t look at her. Not yet.
Women always got giddy over his size; he’d learned to take it in stride. In fact, sometimes their enthusiasm almost seemed demeaning. Dumb as it sounded, and