If You Could Read My Mind.... Jeanie London
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“Michael, what are you—” Jillian broke off her words on a sigh when he filled his hands with her warm skin.
He recognized the mixture of hesitation and yearning in her voice, a tone that always made his blood crash straight to his crotch. Her mind might be saying, “No, we really shouldn’t.” But her body was saying, “Take me, I’m yours.”
He thumbed her nipples, a deep slow stroke, and was rewarded when the tips speared into tight peaks. She arched just enough to invite him to further exploration, and he found the sight of her reflection arousing in the extreme.
His hands looked dark against her skin, and she was all beautiful curves as she leaned her head against the wall, exposing the graceful sweep of her neck. Michael couldn’t have resisted a taste if his life had depended on it.
Lowering his mouth to the pulse beating low in her throat, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss there.
Jillian shivered.
He sucked gently, and was rewarded when she inhaled a long breath that whispered brokenly against his hair. He couldn’t resist dragging his hands down her ribs and anchoring her closer. He rode his growing erection against her belly. She rocked her hips, making him swell so hard his pants seam bit painfully into his skin, which dampened his enthusiasm for foreplay in the bathroom. Disentangling himself, he caught her around the waist and under her knees then lifted her into his arms.
She draped her arms around his neck to hang on. “You’re going to hurt your back.”
Michael only laughed, a sound that burst out harder than he’d intended and made her scowl knowingly.
Okay, so he wasn’t as young as he’d once been… “I can still think of a few ways to show my appreciation, Jilly.”
She turned to gaze in the mirror. “That’s not the problem. I’ve been watching what I eat, but I think my metabolism is slowing down now that I’m thirty.”
Michael exhaled a snort of disbelief that managed not to sound as if he was gasping for air. Maneuvering her through the bathroom doorway, he deposited her on the side of the bed. He didn’t give her a chance to protest, or to get away. Catching her around the waist, he worked the jumble of uniform and cotton panties down her legs before tossing the whole thing onto the floor.
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