Page 24 of Smoke and Roses

“I’ve been sure since you carried my snapdragons.”

He doesn’t make me ask twice. “Alright,” he says as he follows me up the steps and through the door.

We barely get it shut behind us before he has me against it, his mouth on mine, his hands sliding up under my sweater. This time he doesn’t stop. I pull at the buttons on his ironed shirt, and one of them pops off and skitters across my kitchen floor.

“Bedroom,” I gasp.

“Where?”

“Down the hall. Left side.”

He picks me up just like that, like the snapdragons. My legs lock around his waist as his mouth moves against my throat.

I can’t help the wild laugh that comes out. He doesn’t laugh. But he makes a hot, rough masculine sound as he scrapes his teeth against my flesh.

My bedroom is small and dark. There’s a sliver of pale light coming in through the curtains from the street.

It feels safe and sacred.

He sets me on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of me. Silently Travis takes off my boots one at a time, like it matters. He does the same with my socks. He pulls my sweater over my head and stays there on his knees, looking at me with so much heat, I worry I’ll be the reason the fire department alarm goes off.

“Travis,” I whisper, a tremor running through me.

“Hell. Give me a minute,” he says hoarsely. “I’ve been thinking about this since you handed me that damn coffee.”

“Okay, you look. I’m going to just take this off.”

I push his shirt off his shoulders. His chest is broad and hard and warm to the touch. The scar I’ve seen disappearing under his sleeve runs up his left arm and over his shoulder in a long, rough, twisted line. I put my mouth on it, right at the top, where it ends.

He shudders all over.

“Nobody’s ever done that,” he says, roughly.

“Then they were idiots.”

He lays me back on the bed and without another word, he undoes my jeans and drags them down my legs.

“Damn, honey,” he murmurs, then he’s leaning in, kissing my leg. His mouth is hot as he slowly moves from spot to spot. First my ankle, then my knee. Inhaling sharply as he presses his lips to the inside of my thigh.

Oh god. I’m tingly, dizzy, desperate. My hands fist the quilt.

“Trav—” I gasp, when he hits one really sensitive spot, just at the crease of my leg.

“That’s interesting,” he murmurs. “I think you’ll like this better.”

Pressing my legs wide with his callused hands, he leans forward and eats me through my panties.

“Oh!” I squeak. “Okay. Yes. I really, really like that.”

“Mmmm,” he murmurs against me, angling his head as he presses the lace into my slippery center, moving his tongue against me in rough swipes.

I’m panting loudly now. It’s not elegant.

I’ve had sex twice. Never good sex, and I have a feeling I’m about to be blown away.

“Yes,” I wheeze. “Oh my God, your mouth is so good.”

He’s looking at my pussy with a dark, hungry gaze as he tugs my panties to the side. “Better,” he rasps.