Free Strike by Sheryl Zaines Page A

press of his lips was soft against hers. She closed her eyes as she sank into him. His arms folded around her, drawing her tight against his chest. Just when she thought they were done talking, he pulled inches back from her. She opened her eyes to see what was wrong.
    “I think I’ll set my cell phone alarm and skip the sunrise,” he said.
    He leaned forward and the kiss resumed. Only this time she didn’t close her eyes. She watched the storm clouds brewing in his eyes as she slid her hands down his back. He already felt so comfortable, so familiar, and still there was that excitement of not knowing what was going to happen.
    They were walking toward her bedroom. This time she was the one in the lead. It was a lot easier to direct someone backward than she had thought it would be. While she was tempted to shove him back onto the bed, at the last minute she had a better idea. She sprawled out on the bed and left him standing next to it.
    “Now, I was thinking that you owe me a show,” she said. “I was kind enough to undress for you the first night we were together. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that the favor be repaid.”
    He was in obvious discomfort and couldn’t look her in the eye. She made herself more comfortable, waiting for him to start dancing. The man who always seemed so confident to her suddenly looked awkward and unsure. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen and it made her heart melt.
    “Please,” Tori said.
    That was a first for her—she never begged for sex. That was what the men were supposed to do. Of course, if she had ever experienced anyone with the sexual abilities Collin had, she might have been pleading to get it from the first time.
    She must have gotten across just how much she want to see him, because his fingers slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. A smiled curled the edge of her mouth. Even though he was taking his dear sweet time about it, she was not going to look away.
    By the time he’d peeled off his shirt he was starting to get into it. His hips swayed back and forth, matching the heavy beat of the music she had quietly playing. His chest was just as spectacular as she remembered it. The sleek muscles gleamed in the soft light of the lamp and the candles. The long corded muscles ran over every inch of him.
    Her eyes were suddenly pried from the perusal of his chest by the only thing that could—he was unzipping his fly. At the same time he was slipping out of his sneakers. She could picture it now—he was going to end up wearing nothing but his socks. She laughed out loud at the thought, but managed to stifle it into nothing more than a giggle.
    He must have taken the chuckle as encouragement, because he was getting more into the show. His whole body was moving with the rhythm as he lowered the denim. She had to admit she was impressed by his coordination. Her eyes were locked onto his hands and what was about to be revealed. Even her toes were wiggling, she was so anxious to get him nude. But he knew that she was waiting and slowed down even more.
    Just when she was about to complain and try to force him to strip faster, she realized that his underwear was going down with his pants. One eyebrow went up as she wondered if he was even aware he would soon be completely naked. She wasn’t going to tell him, knowing that his amazing cock was going to come into view soon.
    He lowered the material so slowly that his penis gently slid out. Of course he was hard and ready to go, just as he had been every time she had seen him. She started to smile, having what she wanted in her sight. Then he turned around and his body was blocking her view.
    Any protests about not being able to see his amazing cock were muted. For the time being, she was content looking at his tight little ass. He had the best legs she had ever seen and each movement brought different muscles more prominently into her view. She had something new to look at with every flex.
    Her eyes roamed back up his