Bad Boys To Go Excerpt
Bringing up Baby
No two ways about it: Anabel just wasn't proper mother material. He thought of mothers as being like his own - no-nonsense, understated, ready with a hug and advice. His mother looked like a mother. Soft, a little rounded, casual and comfortable.
Anabel looked like... not a mother. He couldn't label her, but there was nothing comfortable about her. Exciting, yes. Hot, definitely. But not maternal.
Even while she'd been pouring her heart out to him, a part of his mind kept thinking how sweet it'd be to push her to her back on his desk, to tug those threadbare jeans down her hips and thighs so he could...
Suddenly she slid off the desk and started toward him. "I know what you're thinking, Gil."
Along with the look in her eyes, that throaty tone brought him out of his reverie. "You haven't got a clue." If she did, she sure as hell wouldn't get so close to him.
"Wanna bet?" He caught his breath when she leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Her cool fingertips brushed the heated skin of his nape. Eyes direct, even challenging, she whispered, "You're thinking about sex. With me. I've seen that look on your face before."
He didn't back down. "What look?"
Her smile curled, lighting up her eyes, flushing her cheeks. "Well, the look before you just went blank. It's this sort of heated expression, very direct and interested and naughty."
He caught her shoulders to hold her away - and instead, he just held her. His heart thundered and the muscles of his abdomen and thighs pulled tight. "You're mistaken."
"Oh really?" She went on tiptoe to brush her nose against his throat. "Mmm. You smell good, Gil."
Her breath whispered over his skin with the effect of a lick. Her breasts, shielded only by a clinging shirt, brushed his chest.
"Anabel." He meant his tone to be chastising, and instead it reeked of encouragement.
Her hand left his shoulder to glide down his chest, down, down to the waistband of his slacks where she lingered, making him nuts, causing his lungs to constrict. Her lips moved nearer to his and at close range, she stared into his eyes.
"You want me, Gil. Admit it."
He wouldn't admit a damned thing. But neither could he deny it.
The darkening of her eyes should have given him warning. But when her slender fingers drifted lower, cupping his testicles through his slacks, he was taken completely off guard. To call her brazen would be an understatement. To call him unaffected would be an outright lie.
She held him, gently squeezed, expertly stroked. "You're already hard," she whispered.
Yeah, from his ears to his toes, but did she have to sound so pleased about it?
Still in that soft whisper, she purred, "Gil, I want you, too. I always have." As she said it, she moved her fingers up to his throbbing cock, teasing his length, deliberately arousing him further, pushing him. "We would be good together. I know you, know what you like and what you want. I'll do anything, Gil. Anytime you want, any way you want. I'll - "
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