Free Bare Knuckle: Vegas Top Guns, Book 5 by Katie Porter Page B

modest makeup was long gone, and she stood before him wearing her vulnerability like a second robe. She lifted her shoulders in a tense, halfhearted shrug, as if waiting for him to pass judgment.
    He palmed the back of her skull. Her hair was baby fine and super soft. “Nice,” he said quietly, then pulled her near enough to take her mouth. She tasted like mint, not coffee.
    She splayed a hand across his pecs. “You certainly do know how to say good morning.”
    “The pictures…” He traced the arch of her eyebrow with one thumb, harboring the compulsion to memorize the shape of her face. “Perfect.”
    Her smile sharpened. “Told you I’d end up on your wall.”
    “Yeah,” he said with a quiet laugh. “Probably.”
    She sauntered to the side table where his laptop rested. Hands in the pockets of his robe, she watched the slideshow. “Man, look at that. Look at me . I’ve never…” She tilted her head as her breathing hitched a bit faster. “That is crazy hot. Oh! That one. Go back.”
    He angled around her hip to get to the trackpad. “This?”
    In the picture, he was behind her, fucking her. His arms were wrapped underneath her breasts. While Eric buried his face against her neck, she looked right at the lens. Her eyes appeared sleepy yet crackling with energy.
    She made an inarticulate moan. “Christ, yes. Lord, look at your arms.”
    “What?” He could barely see them beyond the plump rise of her tits.
    She folded both hands around his upper arm. “This. Your body is flat-out sick.” Petting, she slid over the caps of his shoulders, down his forearms and along the veins that stood out there. “How much work do you put in yourself?”
    He lifted his eyebrows. “I could ask the same of you.”
    “Skinny doesn’t mean in shape. I couldn’t do a chin-up to save my life.”
    Devious. There was no other word to describe the feeling that took over. He felt absolutely devious.
    After gripping her ribs, he picked her up and spun their bodies. She squealed as he lifted her toward the chin-up bar. She grabbed it as if by reflex. The dark blue robe came open, displaying a creamy expanse of skin that remained slightly pink from the shower.
    “Don’t you dare let me go,” she said on another squealing laugh. “So help me God, if you do…”
    “You’ll what?” He pushed away the robe with his nose and nuzzled the inside curve of her breast. Those two pert nipples were irresistible. He sucked one tip into his mouth, then nibbled and licked.
    Her legs curled around his waist. “This doesn’t much seem like any chin-up I’ve ever heard of.”
    He smiled against her skin. “If you went to a gym, no man would ever leave.”
    “I’m pretty sure that’s a compliment.” Her legs tightened at his waist as she released one hand. She steadied herself with a hand at the back of his head, sending tingles down his skin—until she smoothed around to the edge of the scars on his face. “You can’t let me go, though. Promise me.”
    Offering silent encouragement, he grabbed her hand and lifted it toward the bar. He liked when she extended her lithe body, with her breasts rising to his mouth.
    He also liked her not touching his scars.
    He slipped his hand under her thigh and hitched her knee over his elbow. She was wide open for him—a tempting bit of wiry determination. Her pussy was already wet.
    Teasing done. They were both ready.
    He kissed her. Took her mouth. Stroked his tongue along hers, harder, more urgently, as their lips pushed and slid.
    She threw her head back, inviting him to graze his teeth over her skin. He palmed her ass and positioned her wet cleft over his cock. “You still think I’m going to drop you, showgirl?”
    “No. God, no.” Her body lengthened in a lithe arc. “But you’ll have to put me down to find a condom.”
    “Wanna bet?”
    Eric reached up to release her grip from the metal bar. After looping her wrists around the back of his neck, he grabbed her hips and ass. The