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Fake It Till You Bake It(83)

Author:Jamie Wesley

“Yes.” He’d left her defenseless. She wanted to have the same effect on him. She lifted herself up to nip at the hard line of his jaw. Smiled when he shivered. “Take off your shirt. It’s only fair.”

“True.” He obliged her.

She bit her lip to keep another whimper from escaping when she got her full, unvarnished look at his chest. She was a lucky, lucky woman. Scrumptious brown skin she couldn’t wait to taste. Soft swirls of black hair covered hard pecs. The hair tapered in the most intriguing way into a line that went down his well-defined abs to his waist.

She’d given her compliments to the chef earlier. But if good, healthy cooking led to those abs, she hadn’t given the woman her due enough. Her mouth watered with the desire to follow his happy trail to the promised land with her mouth. Soon. Very soon.

She beckoned him toward her with a crooked finger. With an arrogant eyebrow lift, his hands bracketed her body. He covered her body with his, pressing her into the soft cushions, settling in between her legs. The most wonderful predicament she’d ever found herself in. He was all heat and hardness against her welcoming softness. Jada exhilarated in the contact. The hair on his chest tickled her breasts. She turned her head into his neck and inhaled a lungful of Donovan.

He boosted himself up on his hands and looked down at her, wonder in his eyes. Wonder that matched her own.

“Wow,” they whispered together.

“We’re really here, huh?” she said.

He nodded. “We are.”

She knew how he felt. She wasn’t in this alone. She lifted her head, greedy for another kiss, while her hands went wandering, striving to touch every inch of the smooth, brown skin she could reach. The ridges and planes of his body fascinated her.

He thrust against her, sending another rush of sensation cascading through her.

“Again,” she said, part demand, part frustration that clothes still separated them. He repeated the action. Jada moaned her approval. She wanted him there where she was so soft and wet.

Then he lowered his mouth to hers. Another mind-blowing kiss followed. When he finally wrenched his mouth away, his chest heaving, she pressed hungry, desperate kisses to the strong line of his neck and wide, muscular shoulders. Anywhere her lips and tongue could reach.

Then he was gone and she didn’t try to stop an undignified whine from escaping. She wanted him back now. She rose up on her elbow. The view was spectacular. Muscles rippled in all their glory as he divested himself of his pants and underwear. She’d wanted to do that, but she’d allow it. Next time. He was magnificent. Long and hard. Her mouth watered again. A pulse throbbed between her legs. Yes.

He perused her figure, then lifted an arrogant eyebrow. Oh, right. She needed to return the favor. She stood and quickly got rid of her pants and panties.

He swept her figure from head to toe, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. “It bears repeating. You are so beautiful.”

Before she could respond to or bask in the compliment, he swooped down, swept her up over his shoulder, and strode out of the room. Good Lord, the man had a world-class ass. Round and tight and biteable. Which was not important at the moment. Later, though. She pounded on his hard-as-a-brick back. “Put me down.”

He continued like he felt or heard nothing, not stopping until he turned into a room and promptly dropped her. She bounced on the bed, then raised herself up. “Hey!”

She would ignore how this was possibly the most comfortable mattress she’d ever been on with the most luxurious sheets. The man knew thread count. He bent a knee to the bed and crawled upward until he covered her body. She inhaled his scent, quickly becoming intoxicated again. Hints of cedar and ocean and Donovan.

She needed to taste him. She trailed her teeth along a tendon in his neck.

“You were saying?” he whispered against her ear.

She caressed his jaw, the soft hair of his five o’clock shadow scraping deliciously against her palm. How would his beard feel against the skin of her inner thighs? If there was any justice in the world, she’d know sooner rather than later. “Hush and kiss me again.”

He shivered dramatically. “That bougie voice just does it for me.”

He cut her laugh off with his mouth. Then she was drowning again in him, in how he made her feel. Cherished. Desired.

His talented mouth slipped down her body, his destination clear, though he took several detours, first to her collarbone, then to her breasts again, then the curve of her hip.

Jada gripped the magnificent sheets with both hands and held on for the ride. Then he was between her legs, worshipping her like she was a goddess. She felt like a goddess.

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