I wrinkled my nose.“I hate mice.” The words managed to come out clear despite my hearthammering away inside my chest. “You scared me,” I accused him.
Mace stepped aroundto the front of the bench. I opened my eyes from where I lay withmy head on one side and stared straight ahead at his crotch.
A very solid andbulging crotch.
The black, stretchymaterial enhanced the shape of him. I opened my lips and lickedthem, wishing I could press my mouth to his groin and kiss himthrough his pants.
A strangled soundabove me brought me back.
“Christ,Enota. Looking at a man like that is dangerous.” His voice wasrough with undisguised need.
I smiled and lookedup at him through my lashes without raising my head. “Saying thingslike that might get you a girl you weren’t planning on.”
His gaze darkened,glazing with lust. “Can I touch your legs?”
“Yes.” I didn’tbother to flirt any longer. We’d moved past that.
“Thank you.” Hismeasured footsteps resumed, this time adding a light caress as heworked his way from my thighs down to my ankles. He circled my calfwith one hand, encompassing it easily. “Can I take your bootsoff?”
I nodded and feltthe sharp sting of his fingers as he flicked my thigh.
“Words, littlehardcore girl.”
“I’ve never beencalled that before.” I’d been called a lot of things, but neverthat.
“You don’t crave it?Your body says you do.” He stroked his fingers along my legs,soothing where he’d flicked me, working my boots with his otherhand until my feet were bare and my shoes clattered to thefloor.
“I—” I swallowed ashis fingers dug into my feet, massaging them. I sank against thepadded support, letting the maelstrom of emotion and sensation heevoked wash over me. “Define hardcore.”
“Hard fucking, deepthroating, flogging, gags, clamps, more than one partner at once.”His fingertips trailed the inside of my thighs until I ached.
“Ohhh,” I moaned andgushed again, a vein of hot molten desire pooling at the center ofmy pussy, swelling my lips though he hadn’t touched me thereyet.
“When was the lasttime you were with a man and a woman together?”
“Never,” Iwhispered.
“And more than oneman?” Light circles began around my ass. He flipped my short skirtup, exposing me in full.
I buried my face inthe padding, panting as he traced the curve of my ass, played withthe top of my tailbone, right over my asshole. “Maybe—maybe a yearago.” My voice caught between a moan and a cry.
Desire built in me,and I couldn’t think.
“Liar.” He smackedone palm down and then the other.
Then his handsdisappeared.
I cried out, morefrom his disappearance than from his accusation. “You’re right. Itwas … two years or so ago. Before.”
Beforehadbeen my benchmark. I refused to recognize what had happened in thisroom, and yet here I was again, being touched by a man I hadstarted to trust.
I didn’t want toremember how bad that worked out the last time I tried it. Tearswelled and broke, tracing my cheeks in cooling wetness, and I couldbreathe.
“Enota?” Warm palmscupped my cheeks, lifting my chin to him as he knelt before me,though I hadn’t noticed him move. “I hurt you.”
“No, youdidn’t.”
“I smacked you.”
