Page 69 of Perfect Together
“Wait for a towel! You’ll drip water everywhere!” Sara took off after her, towel in her hand.
Nicole laughed, leaning her head back against the chair in which she sat. “Oh my God, she’s so cute.”
“A firecracker,” Sam said.
They lay in companionable silence, enjoying the afternoon, and he was glad Nicole could put her problems aside. And if she wasn’t, at least she was making an effort to enjoy as much as possible. He dreaded the time when they’d have to head back to reality, but that was a while off.
Sara stepped outside to tell them she was leaving and pointedly mentioned she wouldn’t be back until Sammy’s bedtime at eight.
Good friend, he thought wryly, letting him know he had the all clear, which was perfect, because he couldn’t keep his hands off Nicole for much longer.
***
The sun beatdown overhead and beads of perspiration pooled on Nicole’s chest. She groaned, knowing that the weatherman’s prediction of one-hundred-degree temperatures had to have come true.
“I’m roasting out here,” she murmured.
A few seconds later, she squealed at the unexpected cold shot of an ice cube trailing over her stomach. She bolted upright, but Sam’s firm hands pushed her shoulders back down.
“Shh. Let me cool you off.”
His husky voice aroused her in an instant, and she did as he asked, relaxing back into the chair.
He outlined her bikini top with an ice cube, first tracing the band around her chest, then moving over the swells of her breasts, taking his time, leisurely caressing her skin.
The ice, a stark contrast to her heated flesh, melted on contact, leaving droplets of water in its wake, and she arched into the cooling sensations. Sam added texture to his ministrations, brushing his thumbs over her already distended nipples, awakening her nerve endings that begged for a harder touch, but he didn’t linger in any one spot.
Instead, he retrieved another cube from the Lucite bucket and worked his way down her stomach, her muscles rippling and clenching at the icy trail he created. He outlined the top of her bikini bottom, sliding the ice along her lower abdomen, keeping his fingers in the mix, stroking her aroused flesh everywhere—except where she needed it most. Every touch, every brush of his callused fingertips might as well have been directly on her sex because the tiny bud throbbed and ached as if he were physically touching her, and she arched her hips, seeking deeper contact.
Sam pressed his lips to her stomach, lapping at the water droplets and kissing her skin. She moaned at the intimate touch, unable to hold back the sounds of pleasure.
Forcing her heavy eyelids open, she caught sight of his golden-brown hair, his face lost to her, buried against her.
“Sam,” she said, his name escaping, the word more a plea.
“Right here.” Which sounded like a promise, and her sex grew wet.
He hooked his fingers into the sides of her bikini and slowly slid the bathing suit down and off her legs.
Bared in broad daylight beneath the afternoon sun, she ought to be embarrassed, but she knew they were alone. And with his green-gold gaze darkened with desire, she didn’t care about anything except the pulsing needs of her body and his.
“So damn sexy,” he said, lowering his head to her body once more.
Only this time, he slid his tongue directly over her damp sex and began working her earnestly. No more teasing. His tongue slid over her outer folds, giving each one thorough, loving treatment before sliding his tongue briefly over her clit.
Her hips jerked, and she gripped his head, centering herself, unable to hold still as the beautiful sensations built inside her. “Sam, God. Don’t stop.”
One long swipe of his tongue was her answer.
Then he grasped her thighs and slid his tongue inside her. She pulled at his hair, thrusting her hips against his eager mouth. He gripped her legs tighter, playing her body faster, flicking his tongue back and forth over her clit, then easing off long enough for her to catch her breath, only to start up again.
He brought her close and pulled back, close and pulled back, until she writhed beneath him, a frantic mess of need, every nerve ending in her body screaming for the release he deliberately denied her.
Then suddenly, he nipped at her clit and then pressed his tongue down hard and flat against her and she shattered, her body imploding in the most mind-blowing orgasm that seemed to go on and on, until she could swear she saw bright, colorful stars behind her eyes.
She’d barely come back to herself when a shadow loomed over her. Sam stood before her. He’d shed his swim trunks and his big, beautiful body stood poised at her entrance.
He glanced down at her and groaned. “The damn lounge chair is too low. I need to fuck you, and I can’t do it on that flimsy thing.” Before she could blink, he lifted her into his arms.