Home > The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving (Bluebonnet #4)(28)

The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving (Bluebonnet #4)(28)
Author: Jessica Clare

She struggled for something to say to burst his bubble of pleasure, but when she couldn’t come up with anything, she said in a small voice, “My pants are all wet.”

“Yeah, that’s my fault,” he said again, and his voice was all husky. “I didn’t think you’d come so hard or I’d have stripped you naked. You can wear a pair of my boxers and we’ll hang them to dry, okay?”

She nodded.

He released her with another satisfied little kiss to her mouth that would have been charming if she hadn’t been so embarrassed, and went to dig a pair of boxers out of his clothing drawer. He presented them to her a moment later, and she scurried to the bathroom to change out of her panties and jeans. She scrubbed her garments in his sink and hung them on the shower rod to dry, and then returned to the main room of the cabin.

Rome was lying on the bed, still fully dressed. He looked her up and down as she emerged. “That’s a nice look.”

She tugged on the hem of her sweater, feeling a little silly since it was currently paired up with boxers. “I hear it’s the latest in Paris.”

He chuckled and patted the bed, inviting her to sit next to him.

After a moment’s hesitation, she did so, and he immediately dragged her back against him, pulling her to his body for another long, lingering kiss. “I just want you to know that nothing about you is disappointing in the slightest. That was f**king amazing.”

She snuggled against him, feeling a bit more relaxed now that the crisis was over. Really, her entire body was feeling pretty good right about now, though she ached a little between her legs, still, as if she were missing something. It was a good ache, though. “So what do we do now?”

Rome brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “What do you feel like doing?”

His eyes were still that sleepy blue of desire, she noticed, and she thought of that tent in his jeans from earlier. She glanced down at his lap and, sure enough, he was still hard. “Call me crazy, but isn’t the goal of making out usually for both people to get off?”

He shrugged, and his finger traced her jaw. He just liked touching her, it seemed. “We’re taking it slow, remember?”

“That seems . . . really slow for you.”

He laughed. “I’m a patient man.”

“My jeans won’t be dry for a while.”

He curled a lock of her hair around his fingers and gave her another soft smile that made her heart thud. “I don’t mind if you stick around.”

Rome Lozada seemed too good to be true, Elise suspected. He was a gorgeous man with wild piercings, even wilder tattoos, and a killer body. And he didn’t mind when she acted all virginal and silly. So had she scored the jackpot here, or was there more to him that she didn’t know? How could she tell?

He tilted his head, trying to keep eye contact with her. “What are you thinking?”

“Just wondering about you.”

His eyes lit up. “Wondering about touching me?”

Well, no, she hadn’t been, but . . . now that he mentioned it, it wasn’t a bad idea. “Do you want me to?”

“Only if you want to. This is all about you tonight.”

She thought about that earth-shattering orgasm he’d given her earlier, and how unfair it seemed that he didn’t get one in return. But was she ready to just stick her hand in his pants and do to him what he did to her?

Elise wasn’t so sure about that. “I’m feeling a little shy,” she admitted.

“Just do what you like. There’s no pressure.”

“What if I just want to kiss you?”

“That’s fine.” He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, the hoop dancing, and she laughed.

“Maybe just a few kisses,” she said, and leaned in to put her arms around his neck. But instead, he pulled her by the waist and dragged her to straddle his lap.

“That’s better,” he said, and his voice held a note of strain.

Elise tensed. Her current position was a vulnerable one. Spread over his lap, she had no choice but to face him, and her sex was spread open wide right over his straining groin.

But . . . gosh, he looked so gorgeous. She couldn’t help but reach out and brush her fingertips down the front of his shirt, then pull it gently open because she wanted to unwrap him like a package.

“Want me to help you with that?” His voice was husky, soft, and delicious.

She nodded.

He sat forward, and his face pressed almost into her br**sts as he shrugged off the plaid shirt. She giggled, surprised, and the giggle turned into a gasp when he arched his h*ps . . . and his c**k pressed up against her sex through the fabric.

Then he peeled off the undershirt and tossed it to the side, He sat back against the wall again, and all that tattooed, bare flesh was hers to explore.

Oh. “You look so . . .” Her fingers lightly touched the wing of a bird that curved across his pectorals. It was a hawk, but stylized in a way that looked like Southwestern influences mixed with Maori. It was all geometric lines and angles and suggestions of patterns.

“Busy?” he asked, and there was a wry smile on his face.

“Beautiful.” Her fingers swept down the length of the bird’s wing, then followed the symmetrical feathers down to the extended claws. She touched another tattoo on his shoulder blade, this one of a rather vicious-looking eagle. “Why birds?”

He shrugged. “I like them. They seem free.”

Intriguing answer. She touched her tongue to one tattoo. “I was going to say your tattoos are ‘lovely,’ but that’s the wrong word to use for a man, isn’t it?”

“Any time you’re touching me, Elise, you can call me whatever you want,” Rome said softly, and that hoarse note was back in his throat. His h*ps bucked against hers again, and she felt that slow, languid throb in her sex once more.

This time, when he raised his hips, though, she rolled hers with him, and was rewarded with his groan of pleasure and the way he threw his head back, as if it was too much for him to take in.

He was stunning. She forgot all about learning him and decided she wanted to touch him very much, instead. Elise leaned forward and her mouth went to his neck, kissing at the Adam’s apple that bobbed and swallowed with every roll of her hips. She was doing it automatically now, riding him with small flexes of her h*ps and thighs, and feeling him strain against her in return. It was erotic . . . but totally safe because there were all these clothes between them. But Rome’s eyes were closed and she could watch him, fascinated, and kiss him to her heart’s content.

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