No Time like Mardi Gras. Kimberly Lang
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“It’s fine. I’m going to burn them tomorrow anyway.”
At least this hadn’t dampened her spirit.
The hallway was quieter as the door closed behind him, and he grabbed a couple of clean bar towels off the shelf. After wetting one in the mop sink, he handed both to her as he unlocked the office and led her inside. It was small and untidy, and Jamie looked uncomfortable being in there. “You can get the worst of it off with those, and I’ll see about finding you a shirt.”
“Thanks.” Taking the wet cloth, she wiped it over her arms and hands, then closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure as she wiped her face and the parts of her neck not covered in beads. “Oh, that feels so good.”
He swallowed hard as he watched her. Jesus, he really was on edge, if that simple action was enough to send his blood running south.
Shirt. Find her a clean shirt. He rummaged through the boxes of Lucky Gator T-shirts under Teddy’s desk until he heard her curse quietly. Looking up, he saw her fighting with the huge stack of beads around her neck. “You okay?”
“I suddenly feel like I’m being strangled.”
“Here. Let me help. Lean forward.” She gave him a look, but then did as he said. “All the way.” He slid his hands along the sides of her neck, under the plastic strands and lifted them away from her skin. “Now just drop your head forward...more. That’s it. Now pull back.”
The mass slipped onto his arms and Jamie stood up. “Oh, my God. I feel ten pounds lighter all of a sudden.” She ran her hands over her neck and grinned. “Overaccessorizing is a bad thing.”
He dropped the beads onto the desk and went back to the box of T-shirts. “Let’s get you a dry shirt. You’ll have to wear a gator across your chest.”
“Thanks. This one is beyond help.”
“It’s probably going to be big on you...”
As he turned around, the rest of the sentence died in his throat. Jamie was already matter-of-factly peeling her shirt up, exposing a flat stomach and a bra so barely there that he could see the dark shadows of her nipples through the fabric. As the shirt cleared her head, she noticed him staring. He expected her to cover herself, to turn around, but instead, her movement slowed to a crawl. He looked up, expecting to see shock, or even outrage, but her eyes met his evenly as her shirt hit the ground.
Just like that, the mood shifted, and the air felt close and tense. The noise just beyond the walls faded until Jamie’s shallow breaths and the blood pounding in his ears blotted it out completely.
Unable not to, Colin let his fingers glide gently over the plane of her stomach, tracing the indentation that ran from ribs to navel, enjoying the little gasp and the way the muscles contracted under his touch. Jamie never broke the stare, even as he retraced his path up between her breasts, to the hollow at the base of her throat that fluttered under his fingers.
Jamie swallowed and her breath began to stutter. Her hand reached for the hem of his shirt, fisting in the fabric, pulling him closer to her until he could feel the heat from her skin. There was a moment where she seemed to inhale, her pupils dilating, and then Jamie rose to her tiptoes to press her mouth to his.
The sensation rocketed through him as if he’d been hit by lightning, causing his knees to buckle as he pulled her close and her tongue slid inside his mouth. He grabbed onto the filing cabinet with one hand and slid the other around the firm curve of her butt, steadying them both. Jamie moaned deep in her throat, and the sound nearly sent him over the edge right then.
Jamie’s hands tangled in his hair, holding him when he moved to taste her neck, the skin on her collarbone, the soft spot behind her ear, and her leg rubbed restlessly against his.
He’d just wanted to touch her, nearly convincing himself that would be enough, but now... He wanted to explore her, devour her, lose himself in her.
The bra strap marred the smooth skin of her back, but a quick twist of the clasp allowed him an unimpeded sweep from neck to waist. She dropped her arms, allowing it to fall the rest of the way to the floor, and leaned back against the door, giving him access to small, perfectly formed breasts. Jamie hissed as his thumb brushed over her nipple, and her whole body quivered.
She pushed his shirt up until it caught under his arms, and he let go of her long enough to remove his own beads and pull the shirt the rest of the way off. He tried to capture her lips again, but Jamie’s head dipped to his chest, pressing hot kisses against his skin. He was having trouble breathing and then couldn’t breathe at all when Jamie’s tongue flicked over his nipple. He pressed his palms against the door hard, gritting his teeth as the pleasure seared through him.
Then she was kissing him again, hitching herself up to wrap her legs around his waist, her hips writhing against him. Any hope he had of rational thought or restraint was lost.
A tiny voice in the back of Jamie’s mind was trying to send out a caution signal, but the rest of her was able to ignore it completely. She’d known she’d go right over if Colin so much as touched her, but she hadn’t realized she could spontaneously combust in someone’s arms or that it could feel this incredible when she did. It was better than her imaginings, more than her hopes. Colin was a freakin’ gift from the sex gods, every inch of him designed to tempt and to please, and she didn’t care if it was a good, bad or indifferent choice; she was going to take every bit she could and enjoy it.
Colin coaxed her legs back to the floor, then slid to his knees, hands grasping her hips as his mouth caught her nipple. The lights went dim as he sucked her, and without his support, she’d have collapsed altogether. Hot, wet kisses on the sensitive underside of her breast and across her ribs left her trembling. Then his tongue traced a path to her navel and beyond, inch by torturous inch until he finally reached the snap of her shorts.
He paused, his breath hot against her skin, and she looked down to see him watching her face, as though he was looking for permission to cross this last barrier. At the same time, his fingers were tracing along the hem of her shorts, teasing over her inner thighs, so close but yet so far from where she really needed them.
She reached for the snap and the zip, letting them sag from her hips. Colin surged back to his knees, his hand clasping her neck and pulling her down for a hot, wicked kiss at the same time his hand slid inside her panties.
Breaking the kiss, she gasped for air, holding onto his shoulders to steady herself. Colin’s fingers circled and teased, wringing tiny moans from her. Just as she was about to scream in frustration, his hand twisted and his finger slipped inside her.
This time her knees did give out. Colin caught her in his lap, rolling to his back and then lowering her to the floor, never letting up on the sensations that had the edges of her mind fuzzy. She was panting, writhing, clawing at his back and the floor as he redoubled his efforts until she climaxed hard and fast.
She was vaguely aware of Colin reaching over her head, rummaging through desk drawers while she fumbled with the zipper of his shorts and palmed him. He stilled, his breath hissing out in pleasure, the muscles in his thighs shaking slightly as she worked her hand, trying to give him even half of what he’d given her. With a groan that sounded nearly painful, Colin grabbed her hand, planting a kiss in the palm and placing it on her stomach while he turned his attention back to the desk.
A second later, she heard