Free Hit Me (The Bailey Boys #2) by PJ Adams

be able to hold back.
    Tongue deep, lips against her labia, against the hood of flesh that shielded her clit, sliding wetly. Fingers against her, squeezing her lips, sliding inside her as his tongue moved up to push at that hood, tease the hardness, circle it, flick across it in a rapid, delicate patter.
    She clung to his head, holding him hard against her as her back arched, her thighs involuntarily clamped around him, and her head threw itself back.
    She cried out loud, so loud they must surely hear in the bar below.
    Everything tightened, released, tightened again. A clenching deep in her belly, a quivering of muscles around those fingers deep inside her.
    Another wave of tightening. Her heart hammering, her breath shallow, fast.
    And then, finally, her legs relaxed, her spine slumped, every muscle in her body subsided a little.
    She reached for him, barely capable of movement. Drew him up the bed until he lay with her, her head on his chest, her arm trailing across his waist, her leg across his thighs.
    Clinging to him.
    Knowing she had momentarily lost sight of why she had come here, that he was meant to be a means to an end, not the end itself.

8
    It was a whirlwind. A wave of craziness.
    For someone like me, a planner, a thinker, an assessor of risk, it was like nothing else I’d ever known.
    I don’t do spontaneous. I don’t do relationships or complications. I don’t do unpredictable.
    And yet all those things summed Imelda up perfectly.
    She was exactly what I didn’t do.
    Not until now, at any rate.
    §
    I lay there, with Imelda’s near-naked body wrapped around me.
    My erection was straining against the tightness of my jeans. She must surely feel it, where her leg was draped across me.
    Hungry for her, like I’ve never been hungry for a woman before.
    And yet... we lay there, an oasis of calm. Her body in my arms, the taste of her on my lips, in my mouth. The memory of the way her whole body had flinched and shuddered in orgasm, a truly animal thing.
    This was a moment that might draw itself out forever.
    Another period of being perfectly in tune, like that night at Los Momentos when we had sat and talked for maybe an hour but it felt like we could have gone on forever.
    I couldn’t work out what she had, what attracted and compelled me. It had no name. No easy way to sum it up.
    But up until now there had been a gap in my life that was the same shape. A gap that this thing , this being in tune, this sense of connection, now filled.
    §
    She moved against me.
    Maybe we’d dozed. Maybe I’d just lain there thinking mushy bollocks and wondering what was happening to me.
    But she moved.
    That thigh, draped across me. A tightening of the muscles, a pressing against my hardness that almost made me groan aloud.
    The slight roll of her hips, pressing her pussy against me.
    She turned her head so her chin rested on my ribs. Looked up at me, dark eyes peering through a curtain of hair.
    She drew her leg back, twisted so she could take her weight on her knees.
    And one hand ran down over my ribs, my abdomen, her touch making the muscles quiver in response.
    Where before had been strange calm, now... now there was a storm beneath the surface, dams waiting to burst.
    Her hand reached my belt, fumbled with it and then fed the end back through the buckle, freed it.
    The buttons, one by one, until my jeans were parted and her hand could slide inside.
    That first touch, fingertips against the base of my shaft. A stab of fingernail, a thumb sliding underneath so the hand could coil around me, tighten, gently tease me upright, clear of the waistband of my shorts.
    She paused, studying me. All I could see was the back and side of her head, that glossy dark hair hanging down over my belly.
    The flat of her hand, bearing down. The soft wetness of lips, of tongue, gliding across and then enclosing, taking in deep.
    She moved so she was kneeling between my legs, her eyes peering up to meet mine. Both hands wrapped around my