Free Getting It Right! by Rhonda Nelson Page B

wouldn’t be anymore. Not after Ben.
    This was the difference, April thought, as realization struck. This was how he’d earned his nickname.
    He wrapped both arms around her, pressed her closer, then nipped lightly at her earlobe. Little lights danced behind her closed lids and the breath echoed out of her lungs.
    Sweet mercy.
    Now that had been done before, but evidently not correctly because she’d never felt a shiver hard enough to rattle her insides.
    “Ah,” Ben said, his voice low and intimate. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Liked that, did you?”
    “Y-yes.”
    “Then think of how much you’ll like it when I’m inside you.”
    Her breath hitched, but before she could exhale, he caught it in his own mouth, kissing her deeply. God, he tasted good. Lingering champagne, sweet fruit and sharp cheese. A feast for the senses. April cupped his jaw, loving the way he felt beneath her palms. Smooth skin with a hint of masculine stubble.
    Ben’s hands had found their way to her waist, then moved upward in a slow trek that made her nipples pebble inside her dress. She shifted, hoping to push one aching breast into his palm and, though she felt the slightest hesitation—one that told her this, too, should wait—Ben’s warm palm cupped her in a surrender that made her belly clench in a knot of delight.
    She heard him swear softly, then he deftly moved the neck of her dress aside, shifting the fabric so that he could more readily feel her. His thumb found her nipple with alarming accuracy, snatching the breath out of her lungs.
    He inhaled sharply. “No bra?”
    “You said sexy,” she reminded him. “FYI, I’m not wearing any panties, either.”
    “Christ.”
    April laughed. “Be patient,” she mimicked, tossing the words back at him.
    “Yeah, well, it’s a helluva lot harder when I know the only thing that separates you from me is my zipper.” He chuckled darkly. “FYI, I never wear underwear.”
    April drew back, inadvertently forcing his hand from beneath her dress, and stared at him. Oh, now that really wasn’t fair. He was already torturing her, wasn’t he? Wasn’t she allowed any petty joy?
    “They constrict,” he explained, smiling, no doubt as a result of her shocked expression. “I like the freedom.”
    Freedom, hell. Now every time she looked at him she was going to know that he was going commando and it was going to drive her nuts. She’d be constantly scoping out his package—as if she didn’t do that enough already, for Pete’s sake.
    “I’m liking it, too,” April said. “Usually I wear thongs—same effect, almost—but this is…” She shifted above him and had the pleasure of watching his jaw clench. “…nice,” she finished. “In fact, I like it so much, I’m going to propose a Rule Number Three.”
    Ben smiled and chewed the corner of his lip. His amber eyes twinkled in the moonlight. “Is that right?”
    “It is. From this moment forward during Operation Orgasm, neither of us can wear underwear.”
    A startled laugh broke up in his throat. “Operation Orgasm?”
    April smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s what a friend of mine is calling this mercy mission of yours. She’s aware of my…problem, and has been hounding me for months to ask for your help.”
    Ben’s head bobbed in a sanctimonious little nod. “Sounds like your friend is a smart woman.”
    “She is,” April agreed.
    His gaze tangled with hers. “But this is not a mercy mission.”
    “It is,” she said. “But I don’t mind.” April’s lips quirked. “How shameless is that?”
    Ben considered her a moment, seemed to be weighing a decision of sorts. “Oh, hell, April. It’s not shameless. The only difference between you and me is that you had the nerve to make the first move.” She detected the smallest hint of self-disgust in that otherwise sexy voice.
    She’d known that he’d wanted her—those hotstares at the pub could hardly imply anything less—but she had to admit