Sweet Trilogy: Sweet Talk / Sweet Spot / Sweet Trouble. Сьюзен Мэллери

her. “I knew you had a lot going on with Nicole and Jesse and everything else. I didn’t want to push you. I was waiting for you to hint that you were ready.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “When you hint, you do it in a big way.”

      He’d been waiting for her? Wasn’t that just her life? Because not only hadn’t she figured that out, she wouldn’t begin to know how to give that kind of a hint.

      “Oh,” she whispered. “Okay. Thanks for telling me that.”

      “You’re welcome.” He walked toward her. “While I distinctly remember some very hot kisses and a pink bra, I don’t remember us actually getting past the preliminaries.”

      She felt herself flush. “We sort of, um, stalled.”

      “Too much Scotch really kills a good time.”

      “Apparently.”

      He touched her cheek with his fingers. “Want to give me another chance?”

      Her stomach tightened. “Yes. When?”

      “Now.”

      Now? As in the morning? Did people do that sort of thing?

      Questions piled on each other, but then Wyatt kissed her and she found herself not caring about the time of day.

      He tasted of mint and coffee and he kissed her slowly, thoroughly, as if he’d been thinking about doing this for weeks. He moved his mouth against hers, exploring her, teasing, making her strain toward him.

      She’d never been much of a morning person, which could either be biology or the fact that she’d stayed up late every night since she was six. But despite the relatively early hour, her body managed to catch on fire pretty easily. She remembered the feel of his hands on her skin, that one place he’d touched the night before, until the giant hiccup of him passing out, and she wanted to feel all that again.

      But first there was the kiss, she thought dreamily, as he pulled back slightly and kissed her chin. He licked along her jaw, to a sensitive spot just below her ear. He paused there, nipped the skin, which made her gasp, then moved down her neck.

      Her body erupted in goose bumps. Her breasts got all swollen and heavy feeling. She raised her hands to his shoulders to both feel his strength and to hang on, because his nibbling kisses went lower and lower until he teased at the vee of her sweater.

      He tugged at the hem of it, then pulled it up over her head. He studied the pink bra she wore underneath.

      “This,” he murmured, “I remember.”

      He wrapped both arms around her and drew her close. She went willingly, wanting to feel his body against hers.

      His skin was warm, his muscles hard. Even as he moved his hands up and down her back, he put his mouth on hers.

      She parted for him and he swept inside. He explored, tongue on tongue, the erotic movement heating her from the inside. One of his hands slipped to her rear, cupping her. She arched against him and felt his hardness, which made her remember him naked. Her insides clenched.

      Suddenly her bra was loose. He tossed it away, then pressed her close again so her breasts came in contact with his chest.

      She squirmed to get closer. She wanted him to touch her there and lick her nipples the way he had before. She wanted to feel those hot, fiery sensations flickering through her. She wanted to melt.

      When he stepped back, she nearly screamed. He wasn’t stopping again, was he?

      But instead of passing out, he grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. They paused on the landing to kiss. He slid his hands up the front of her body and cupped her breasts. Using his thumb and forefingers, he brushed her nipples over and over until her breath came in gasps. He returned his attention to her mouth, kissing her deeply, tugging her along, as they made their way to his bedroom.

      When they were by the bed, he reached for the button at her waistband and unfastened it. He pushed down the denim, along with her panties and she stepped out of her clothes.

      She was excited and nervous at the same time. She wanted him to keep touching her, because that made everything easier. The bed was a good idea, she thought. Better than the floor.

      He eased her onto the bed and knelt over her.

      “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth.

      She wanted to thank him for the compliment, but what he was doing felt too good. The way he sucked and licked, sending darting jolts of need down her stomach to that place between her legs. She stirred restlessly, wanting more of what he’d done before. She wanted that magic touch of his.

      But Wyatt seemed in no hurry to move things along. He shifted to her other breast, licking and nipping until she found it difficult to breathe. Everything felt so good. She told herself to be patient, but in truth, she wanted more.

      When he kissed his way along her belly, she got confused. When he knelt between her thighs and gently parted her, she had a vague idea about what he was going to do and wasn’t sure how she felt about it. When he gave her an openmouthed kiss on that most sensitive, erotic part of her, she knew she was going to die right there, but it would be worth it.

      Nerve endings screamed in delight, then shattered. Heat pulsed through her, burning down to the soles of her feet. She’d read plenty of books that had sex in them, had seen a few X-rated movies, had told lies with a few semifriends, but she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined anything could feel like this.

      He explored her, making her gasp as he brushed across that one, special place. He circled her, eased across her again, then slipped away. He moved slowly, as if figuring out what she liked, or the fifteen easiest ways to make her crazy. Then he stretched out on the bed and flicked her with the tip of his tongue.

      It was better than anything she could have imagined, she thought as she lost herself in the sensation. Better and totally beyond her control. She couldn’t stop herself from responding, not that she wanted to, and she couldn’t seem to hold in the gasp and sighs.

      She clutched at the sheets with her fingers. Tension flowed through her, making her press and push toward a yet-unseen goal. She wanted to beg him not to stop. She wanted to scream. She wanted… something.

      Over and over, he touched her. Muscles clenched with each brush of his tongue. She arched her back, quickened her breathing, lost herself in the sensation of—

      Something changed. Pressure built deep inside her body. A sense of the inevitable. It grew, rushing through her, making her cry out, making her strain. Her breath came in pants. She shuddered and pushed and—

      There was a moment of nothing, almost as if she were free-falling. Then her body shuddered with the most delicious, hot, liquid sensation she’d ever experienced in her life. It was pure pleasure, rushing through her, over her, filling her until she wanted to scream. More and more, then gradually easing and ebbing. It was perfection. Better than chocolate. Better than music.

      She resurfaced a few minutes later and opened her eyes. Wyatt grinned at her.

      “What?” she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Had she done it wrong?

      “You’re amazing.”

      Okay. That sounded nice. “Um, why?”

      “You’re perfectly responsive. I knew exactly what you liked. There wasn’t any guessing. Thanks for that. There’s nothing worse than working in silence.”

      She didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about. “I really liked that.”

      “Good. Me, too.” He pushed into a kneeling position. “Touching you like that, listening to you, made me crazy. I was afraid I was going to lose it.” He shifted closer and pressed against her. “That’s still a possibility.”

      Lose what? She hated being an idiot.

      She felt him pushing