Free Getting It Right! by Rhonda Nelson Page A

night backlit by stars and lights. Andtrue to his word, she wasn’t cold. In fact, every particle in her being had warmed with startling rapidity.
    “Did you dream of me?” he murmured, gently turning her head so that he could kiss her lids.
    April nodded. “Mine are always waking dreams,” she confessed. “I, uh…I had one in the car on the way over here.”
    Ben’s chuckle vibrated against her lashes. “Good. I want you to think of me, to fantasize about me…and what I’m going to do to you.”
    April squirmed closer to him, framed his face with her hands and found his lips. The kiss was warm and languid, like the sound of his voice. His tongue pushed into her mouth, curled around hers—back and forth, back and forth—mimicking an intimate dance she longed to feel in her lower extremities. Extremities that were slowly but surely awakening beneath his expert touch.
    Though she couldn’t claim the deep throb of awareness that usually preceded an orgasm, she could feel a tingling warmth seeping into her sex. The seed of an orgasm taking root.
    Ben deepened the kiss, then slowly drew her into his lap until she straddled him. She could feel the hot ridge of his arousal beneath her, settledfirmly between her legs and the joy that bolted through her almost made her cry out.
    What remained of her patience snapped and she rocked against him, desperate to feel the weight of his sex anchored deeply inside her. She didn’t care if she had an orgasm on not. She just wanted to be as close to him as possible.
    Ben clamped his hands on her hips, forcing her to still. “Patience,” he whispered with a tortured laugh.
    She tugged at the hem of his sweater, tunneled her hands beneath it until she found hard muscle and warm skin. Ben’s belly quivered beneath her touch. She smiled against his lips. “I don’t want to be patient.”
    “Rushing it isn’t going to help you, babe.”
    Logically she knew that, but her body wasn’t in agreement. In fact, her body burned.
    It ached.
    It needed.
    But most importantly, it recognized that Ben was the one man who was going to be able to put her out of her misery, that he alone could lead her to the mountaintop, then cross over it with her.
    “You came to me for help,” he whispered softly, trailing kisses along her jaw. “Let me. Let me love you . Just let go. Stop trying so hard. It’ll come. I promise.”
    Let me love you. Though she knew he didn’t mean it literally—as in, emotionally—the words moved her all the same. Her silly heart melted and her resistance right along with it. Her tautened muscles relaxed and she slumped against him, content to let him…love her. He sighed softly and, for whatever reason, that gentle breath whispered over her soul.
    Ben stroked her back. Lazily trailed his fingers alongside her spine, up and down. Straight lines, small circles, zigzags. “I love the way you feel in my arms,” he said. “Soft. Supple. Womanly.”
    She loved the way it felt being in his arms. Secure yet dangerous, an odd combination for sure, but there was something slightly thrilling about it all the same.
    His fingers gradually found their way back into her hair. He kneaded and massaged, swirled and rubbed, forcing her to relax, April realized. Making her aware of erogenous zones she’d never considered. The small of her back, the curve of the hairline behind her ear. He was learning her, committing to memory every response, and the idea that he was so thoroughly into what he was doingto increase her pleasure was intoxicating in and of itself.
    Quite frankly, though she’d had a few decent lovers over the years, she’d never been with anyone who was interested in knowing her body well enough to customize their sex. It was the same-old same-old song and dance. Nipples, clit, nipples, clit, a little oral thrown in for good measure, then usually ten minutes of hot and heavy full-blown sex. Satisfying? Until eighteen months ago, yes.
    But she highly suspected it