Free Quick Study by Gretchen Galway Page B

delicate skin under her right ear. Then he hesitated.
    “Don't stop,” she said.
    “Sorry.” His hands began to move again, sliding over her body, under her shirt and down her arms and taking the shirt with it. “You're just so beautiful. I had to worship you for a second.”
    The breath caught in her throat. She gasped. “Worship while you work.”
    “Yes, Bonnie.” He tossed her shirt and bra into the back seat. Now she was topless and breathless and struggling for control, knees primly together facing away from him into the car while he knelt down in the driveway and ran his palms up and down her slim-cut jeans.
    “You may take them off,” she said, thinking he would smirk, but he didn't.
    “Thank you,” he whispered. Dropping his gaze to the button of her jeans, he slipped his index finger the waistband, and popped it open—so slowly she ached to reach down and do it herself. Going slow made the exposure, the anticipation, the dark lust in his eyes and between her legs more intense. Too intense.
    “I would like—” she began, then forced some steel into her voice. “Go faster. I want to go inside.”
    He glanced up at her, and now he was smiling, all lopsided and too damn sure of himself for a man that was about to be licking her clitoris for the next few days. Damn if he didn't have a beautiful smile. And those sexy laugh-lines around his eyes—she could get lost in those eyes. They reached inside her and kissed her soul.
    “Bonnie?”
    She had to look away to regain control. Nothing in the rules said she couldn't take off her own damn pants. Pushing him away, she slid the jeans off and climbed out of the car.  “Carry me.”
    Still in a squat down on the driveway, Paul shifted his weight back on his heels and looked up at her. His gaze slid down her body to her toes and up again, settling on the new pink thong she'd bought just for him.
    He closed his eyes for a moment. “You shaved,” he said roughly.
    “Just a little. Here and there.”
    He nodded and inhaled deeply. Then fell forward onto his knees and pressed his face between her thighs. 
    “Here and there,” he repeated, and she felt his voice vibrate deep inside her. Then she felt a soft, small pressure as his tongue lapped at the thin fabric. She sagged against the car and struggled to focus.
    “You're not listening.” Her voice sounded far away. All her attention was on the increasing sensations between her legs. Suddenly, his hands spanned her ass and jerked her pussy hard into his face, and her head fell back and she looked up at the sky past the house roof and the overhanging oak branches and exulted in the thrill of being alive. Then vaguely, as wet tongue met wet labia, she remembered her command to be carried inside.

Chapter 8
    S he was being carried , all right. Right out of her mind.
    “Thank you, Bonnie.”
    She shivered, feeling him everywhere. He had stopped, damn him, and was gazing up at her with a look of humble adoration.
    She blinked and looked down at him, raked her fingers through his thick hair, pulled him back to where he belonged. His low laugh tickled her deep. She sighed. That wouldn't do—she was in control this time. Reluctantly, she pushed him away and stepped to the side.
    “You've had a taste,” she said. “Now take me inside before I give up on you.” She had to look away while she said it so he couldn’t see the need in her eyes. Her impatience.
    “I'm so sorry.” He hung his head, then suddenly lunged forward and lifted her over his shoulder, like before, with her bottom up in the air. She waited for the punishing, loving slap, but he only stroked each rounded cheek with the palm of his free hand and left her upturned pussy half-exposed to the sunshine. Her thong was tight, even tighter than the one she'd worn the first time, and while he shoved his house key into the lock to let them inside, she winced as the thin band of elastic dug into her.
    He set her down in the laundry room