Today’s teaser is a sexy bit from ONE SUMMER NIGHT. In this scene Maggie and Owen have just had breakfast after Maggie cancelled on Owen for their first weekend alone at the Shore. As the talk gets personal, Maggie realizes just how much Owen understands her and cares for her and soon the attraction pulling them together just becomes too much to resist.
Warning – this teaser is for mature adults!
As she pressed into him, she dug her fingers into his hair and cradled his head in her hands. Opened her mouth to invite him to enter. Taste. Savor.
God, but she was so sweet and responsive.
When he danced his tongue across perfect white teeth, she playfully chased it and then lightly bit his lower lip, jerking a groan from him.
He was hard, so hard, that he had to bring a stop to this or there would be no turning back. And as soon as he thought that, she shifted away slightly and met his gaze.
“I want you, Owen. I want this,” she said, laying her hand on his chest directly over his beating heart.
“I want it too, Maggie.” He’d wanted this since they were eighteen and he’d kissed her on that moonlit beach. Maybe even since they were children, playing on the beach together happily. Being with her back then had always seemed to make any day special.
Maggie smiled and pointed an index finger heavenward. “My bedroom is two flights up.”
“Good thing I work out,” he teased, bent, and scooped her up in his arms.
Maggie grabbed hold of his shoulders and laughed out a halfhearted protest. “You don’t have to carry me.”
Owen grinned. “I know what you spent all your summers reading in the gazebo,” he said as he hurried to the stairs and began the climb to her bedroom. Without any strain or hitch in his breath, he said, “I know what the heroes in those books do.”
She chuckled, pulled herself close to nip his earlobe, and whispered, “Bet you can’t guess what the heroines do.”
“Sweet Lord, I can’t wait to find out,” he said and quickened his pace up the stairs.
He entered her room and, with a muttered “Wow,” marched straight to her antique four-poster bed, with its artfully draped canopy of gossamer-light fabric.
Her body skimmed along his as he released her, and she slowly sank to her feet. As soon as she touched the ground, he rested his hands just above where the jeans ended, his palms slightly rough against that sensitive skin and hot. So, so hot.
With a gentle sweep upward, he bracketed her body beneath her breasts and urged her close, her hips grazing against his erection, trapped beneath the khaki he wore. The tips of her breasts, tight and hard with her need, just brushed the starched cotton of his shirt.
She inched her hands up to the first button of that shirt and half glanced at him as she deliberately, leisurely, slipped each button free until his shirt hung open.
“You’re killing me, Mags.” He didn’t need to say what he wanted, because it was obvious she wanted it too.
Maggie laid her hands on his chest, cupping his nicely defined pecs, brushing her thumbs across the hard paps as he eased his hands upward and mimicked her actions, cradling her breasts. Teasing the hard tips between his thumb and forefinger, each little tug blasting straight to her center, creating a sympathetic twist of need.
He grabbed the hem of her crop top and drew it up and over her head. Stopped to gaze at her in the sexy lingerie she was glad she’d worn.
He idly traced the swell of her breasts with the tips of his fingers and said, “You’re so beautiful, Maggie.”
She felt more than beautiful with him gazing at her like that. She felt…cherished.
Reaching behind, she undid the bra and slipped it off, baring herself to him, delighting in the swift inhale of his breath and the jump of his arousal against her belly.
He cradled her breasts again, his touch slow and unhurried. Patient as he learned just what she liked. A little tweak of her nipple followed by his sweet kiss. The long pull into his mouth and a crazy swirl of his tongue that made her knees buckle.
She grabbed hold of his shoulders, encountering the soft cotton, but she wanted to feel him. Only him.
She swept away his shirt, and he broke away from her only long enough to let it drop to the floor and then met her lips in a kiss.
Unhurried. Searching. Over and over, their mouths met as he hauled her close, her breasts crushed against the hard wall of his chest.
She opened her mouth and accepted the slide of his tongue. Danced hers along his until they were both breathing hard and there was no holding back.
Faster than a New York minute, they finished undressing, shoes, socks, khaki, and denim flying free until she stood before him in just the tiny bikini bottoms.
His touch was restrained, almost reverent, as he cradled her breast and then tenderly skimmed his hand down her body to the lacy edge of the panty. He dragged the back of his hand back and forth across the flatness of her belly, just above the low waistband. Then he dipped his hand lower, eased the fabric down her legs, and helped her step out of them.
Special Pricing for a limited time!
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