King's Pleasure. Adrianne Byrd

across her waist and just as expected, her clit exploded and her knees buckled. Luckily for her, she had his broad chest to fall back against while she tried to catch her breath. Damn—a one-touch orgasm. Who would’ve ever thought?

      As an added surprise, her future lover was not a simple two-step brother with a bump-and-grind routine. He had skillz—yes, with a Z. He rocked, dipped and moved like he was born on the dance floor. Leigh had long subscribed to the notion that how a man danced was directly correlated with how he performed beneath the sheets.

      It wasn’t long before they were moving as one and definitely scorching up the designated dance floor. While a few beads of sweat rolled down her hairline, Mr. Sexy-As-Hell remained calm, cool and dry. It wasn’t long before she wondered if she could keep up with him—on the dance floor and between the sheets.

      One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t mind finding out.

      For three songs, their bodies moved and grooved against each other in ways that were more than just suggestive—they were scandalous. Leigh’s breasts ached to the point that they were painful and her heart dropped so low that she was convinced that it was now pounding away inside her clit.

      Another two songs later and they were still at it, with hardly an inch between them—at times exchanging the same breath whenever her breasts and his chest grazed each other.

      A few times Leigh caught his gaze dropping to her nipples. A second later, his tongue would roll across his lips, making them glisten. Never in her life had she ever had to suppress the urge to kiss a complete stranger. But here she was, drawing on every ounce of willpower.

      And losing.

      Before she could question what she was doing, let alone why she was doing it, she slid her arms up his broad chest and then looped them around his neck. From there, gravity took its course, and her future lover lowered his head.

      Please, Lord, let him know how to kiss. If Leigh had a dime for every good-looking brother she’d encountered since her training-bra days that thought kissing somehow involved licking her nose or chomping on her tongue, she’d be as rich as Oprah.

      So with her toes and fingers crossed, she waited anxiously for his luscious-looking lips to touch down. Please, please, Lord.

      Turns out God still answered prayers.

      The instant their lips touched, something akin to a heat wave blazed through Leigh’s entire body and melted every thought right out of her head. With something this hot, reflex should have interceded and made her jump back from the flames. Instead, the exact opposite happened. She pressed her body closer—like she wanted to be consumed by him. It was maddening.

      Once she got used to the fire, she noticed other things about him. Not only were his lips pillowy soft, but his mouth was as wicked as his rhythmic hips. What his tongue was doing with hers was downright pornographic—and she was the star.

      Thank you, Lord!

      Leigh lost her sense of time and space while her body temperature skyrocketed. She didn’t care that her lungs were on the brink of collapse because of lack of oxygen. As far as she was concerned, collapsing in his arms wasn’t such a bad way to go. Even as she felt his lips pull away, it didn’t stop her from conjuring up a vision of coasting through imaginary clouds. Quite simply, it was the best kiss she’d ever had.

      Period.

      After a few gulps of oxygen, she was finally able to reboot her system and open her eyes—but only to be sucked back into this man’s hypnotic gaze. Damn. Who in the hell is this guy? Just as one voice asked the question, there was another part of her that wondered if half the thrill was in not knowing.

      So when Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome opened his mouth to speak, Leigh quickly pressed a finger against his lips. “Shhh. I don’t want to know your name or your zodiac sign. I just want us to go someplace where you can just screw my brains out.”

      His handsome features barely registered surprise before he smiled and said, “I think I can handle that.”

      Chapter 3

      Either it was Jeremy’s birthday or he’d died and gone to heaven. Frankly, if this was a sample of heaven’s delights, he hoped that no one would mourn his passing. As far as he was concerned, he was definitely about to be in a better place. His Coke-bottle-curved diva took him by the hand and led him through the bumping and grinding crowd without another word.

      Bounce.

      Jiggle.

      Wiggle.

      “Damn.” He twisted his face at the woman’s backside view and felt his erection stretch a few more inches down his leg. He was the luckiest son of a bitch walking and he knew it.

      Bounce.

      Jiggle.

      Wiggle.

      “Yo, Dr. J!”

      Hypnotized, Jeremy didn’t risk taking his eyes off the grand prize. He tossed up a couple of deuces and gave whoever was hollering at him the cold shoulder. He knew how most of the brothers on the West Coast operated. They weren’t like the brothers in the South who knew how to fall back and let you play your position. L.A. playas see you heading out with the hottest chick in the room, and suddenly there’s a cock-blocking army trying to intercept.

      Not tonight.

      He’d rather catch a case before he’d give this up.

      From the sidelines, Dylan waved to get his attention. Glancing over, tomorrow’s groom gave him the thumbs-up. Jeremy held up his hand and pretended to be smacking, flipping and rubbing his diva down—preferably with some honey or baby oil.

      Baby Girl chose that moment to glance over her shoulder. He straightened up, and flashed her a devilish smile.

      She laughed, released his hand—but only so that she could grab him by the waistband of his pants. “A’ight, handsome. Let’s see what you can do.”

      “Please don’t hurt me,” he said.

      “A little pain never hurt nobody.” She winked.

      Jeremy’s brows jumped higher. I like this chick. Plus, he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his entire life. And that was saying something.

      They stepped out of the sliding glass doors at the back of the house and onto the crowded deck where topless beach divas and drooling brothers danced and stumbled around.

      Jeremy followed the night’s dessert down the stairs leading from the deck to the beach below. The cool night breeze whipped and flapped the sarong, hugging the woman’s luscious hips. His smile stretched wider at the constant peek-a-boo snapshots of her firm, heart-shaped ass.

      Lord have mercy. He touched his forehead to make sure that he wasn’t running a fever. After a moment, he grew concerned. “Where are we going?”

      “Where else? To get wet!” She released his hand and started racing toward the crashing waves.

      At this late hour the Pacific Ocean was a dark blue-black abyss with strips of silvery moonlight dancing across the surface. But before he could object, the diva whipped off her sarong and flung it and her bikini top off. Next thing he knew they were smacking him in the face.

      The intoxicating scent that lingered in the clothes buckled his knees. He stopped and clawed the clothes off his head. He had exactly two seconds to take in his cinnamon-brown beauty bathed in moonlight before she splashed into the water. For the second time that night, his heart stopped.

      He grabbed his arm. Am I having a heart attack?

      Any thought of yelling for help vanished when his gaze was drawn back to his moon-bathed angel splashing around.

      “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked with a teasing lilt.

      Jeremy stripped, ignoring the voice in his head, trying to remind him that, unlike his brothers, he didn’t know how to