Free Satellite of Love by Christa Maurice Page B

dresser.”
    “The dresser?” He made an attempt at focusing his eyes on her and then on the dresser across the room. “You stocked up?”
    She traced her finger across his lips and down his chin. He had a good chin too. Strong, determined. “I stopped on the way home from school.”
    “Smart woman.”
    “I like to plan ahead.” Relief washed through her. He was off the issue of love.
    He pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it off the bed. Her skin sizzled as he traced with his fingers along the cups of her bra. “I never had you pegged for the leopard print bra type.”
    “Only on special occasions.”
    Placing his lips where his fingers had been a moment ago, he tasted her leisurely.
    Eyes closed, she savored the sensation washing over her. Every inch of her clamored to be next for his attention. She moaned, tangling her fingers through his hair.
    Unhooking her bra, he pushed the material away with his mouth, searching for her nipple. An instant after his hot breath brushed her aching flesh, his lips covered her. She arched. “Michael.”
    He chuckled, already working open her jeans.
    As she disentangled herself from her bra, the cool air in the room made her skin tingle. His hot hands and mouth made her skin ache in a completely different way. Most maddening of all was the hunger between her legs that he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to satisfy. He laved beneath her breast with his tongue. “Michael.”
    “Can I help you with something?” he asked in a maddeningly cool tone.
    She wanted to tell him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t appreciate his behavior. Teasing wasn’t nice. Unfortunately, no words came to her lips.
    He pulled her jeans off, moving out of reach, and she clutched the blankets. Trailing kisses up her leg and over her hip, he slid his palms up her calves. She grabbed his shoulders, dragged him on top of her. All his coolness of a moment ago was lost the moment his lips met hers. His tongue tangled around hers. His erection dug into her stomach. So close and yet so far.
    Working her hands between them, she opened his jeans and tried to push them down, but couldn’t get them far enough. Michael dragged himself away from her, shucked his jeans onto the floor and then seemed intent on falling right back on top of her.
    “Condom,” she said, a hand raised.
    “Condom.” He peered over his shoulder at the dresser like it was in another state and he might have to take a connecting flight to get to it. “Condom.” He crossed the room in three strides and returned in two, ripping the condom open as he did. Slipping it on, he climbed back on the bed to kneel over her.
    Other than the one word, all her language skills had vanished. She wished for a few more words so she could tell him what she felt. How lush and rich he made her feel just by looking at her this way. How beautiful and special his hands made her when he touched her.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he said, cupping her cheek, and thrust into her.
    Arching, she welcomed him, wrapped her arms around his back, digging her fingers into his muscles. The deep movement of him inside her engulfed her. She wanted to twist herself up in him and never be free. His strong arms could keep her pinned here forever. Face buried in her neck, he thrust harder. Her soul split open and love spilled out, warm and liquid. Her body clenched and released in a tidal wave. “Michael, I love you.”
    He gave a strangled cry and collapsed on top of her.
    Maureen stroked her fingers through his hair. Well, she’d done it now. Even if he had been too busy to notice her declaration, she wasn’t. In the past, her relationships had followed a regular path. Date for a few weeks, leading up to heavy petting. Four times she’d allowed a relationship to move into the bedroom and it had never been sooner than two months. And I love you ? That never showed up until somewhere in the heavy petting phase during the second month.
    Last Friday, she’d met him.