Raiders of the Lost Heart(55)

“Can I see it?” she asked.

He blinked several times, then shook his head. Was she asking . . . to see his penis? “See what?”

“Your cock.”

His head jutted out and his eyes widened. “You want me to show you my dick?”

She nodded, lightly brushing her fingertips along the neckline of her robe.

Was she for real?

“I can’t tell if you’re actually being serious right now,” he followed up.

“Dead serious. My vibrator won’t work until I get new batteries, so I need something for . . . stimulation. Is it still hard?” she asked.

He blinked again. “What? Of course it is. You’re standing there wearing that and talking about vibrators and cocks.”

The room fell silent as they stared, each clearly waiting for the other to make the next move. Contemplating what was on the other’s mind.

“Do you really want me to leave?” she asked, her tone shifting with the atmosphere. She was no longer goading him. She was feeling him out.

“Of course I don’t. Not when you’re wearing that and talking about vibrators and cocks,” he said with a smile.

She laughed and, God, it was sexy. “Okay, then, let me see it. I’ll show you my tits. I’m wearing that bra you liked, Dr. Matthews.”

He gulped. That bra. That black, lacy, flimsy bra that he’d thought about numerous times over the past couple of days.

“You realize that coming over here in nothing but a flimsy little robe is the opposite of discreet, right?” he asked with playful humor. “Less than an hour ago you were biting my head off and now, what, you want us to show each other our naughty bits like we’re a couple of kids hiding in a basement?”

She nodded and bit her lower lip, awakening his desires. His craving for her. Wanting her more than he’d ever wanted anything. And she hadn’t come here for some batteries. She’d come for him. She could deny it all she wanted, but she desired him, too.

He needed her to admit it.

“Corrie, why are you here? In my room, I mean.”

“I told you, I needed batteries.”

No. Not good enough. He had to hear her say it. He reached his hand under the T-shirt and started stroking his cock through his boxers. She licked her lips, practically salivating. Yep . . . she wanted him.

“Right, but you could have asked anyone and instead you came here. To me. After everything that happened tonight.”

He dragged long, slow strokes against his erection, building in intensity with her hungry stares.

“You were right. I enjoyed your hands on me. I enjoyed your mouth on me, too.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “Of course I did. Ford, since you’re oblivious to the fact that you’ve been propositioned by your former students because they want to fuck you, let me make it obvious—you’re fucking hot, and it honestly makes me hate you even more than I already do. I think about kissing you all the time . . . about doing many things with you. So . . .” She took a step closer. “Did you like kissing me?”

There was a surprising nervousness in her voice at the question. Could she really not tell how much he enjoyed her lips?

“I think about kissing you all the time, too, often because I think it might get you to shut the hell up,” he said with his lips upturned. Luckily, she smiled. “But most of the time, I want to kiss you because you’re gorgeous, and brilliant, and you . . . and you comfort me. Sometimes those things make me forget that I’m supposed to hate you. So, yes, Corrie . . . yes, I liked kissing you.”

“Show it to me,” she commanded.

Maintaining his rhythm and pressure, he moved the shirt then reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. He wrapped his hand around the shaft, then began stroking again as she watched and began to untie her robe. With slow movements, she opened the robe, revealing her fabulous body to him. Even better than he’d imagined. Full, round breasts barely concealed by that ridiculous bra. Her dark nipples beaming through. Wide, full hips. A soft tummy, toned but not too skinny. No, Corrie Mejía had curves, and her body was sexy as hell.

Her fingers danced over her flesh as she caressed her body. Two fingers swirled in circles along the outside of her bra, outlining her now-hard nipples, while her other hand trailed down into her panties and started massaging her clit.

Oh, fuck this.

Ford stood and pulled Corrie onto the bed so her back was flush with the mattress as he hovered over her. Her robe fell open, welcoming him to her body. “May I?” he asked, his hand hovering over her bra.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

He pressed his lips against hers, savoring every movement of her mouth and tongue, before having the divine pleasure of cupping Corrie Mejía’s breasts. No other breasts in his lifetime could—or would—compare. His mouth left hers, planting kisses down her neck and chest before stopping at that scandalous bra. He ran his tongue along the curve of her breasts before sucking on her nipple through the practically nonexistent fabric. She arched her back and moaned as the scratchy lace twisted around her nipple in his mouth.

He dragged the fabric down with his fingers, now fully taking her swollen bud between his lips. With quick flicks, he lapped against her nipple as his hands traveled all over her body, outlining every curve. Every inch of her. Every spot better than the last. Ford had never touched a woman so incredible. Someone he wanted to please as much as he wanted to please Corrie.