She smiled at that. “Benefits for both sides then.” She tucked her knees beneath her and lifted up, pressing his wrists down at his sides and against the couch cushions, bringing her breasts precariously close to his face before sitting back on her calves again. “You stay right there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She bit her lip, still smiling. “Okay, the way you say ‘ma’am’ is kind of hot.”
He laughed under his breath. “Andi Lockley, author, podcaster, budding sexual dominant.”
She cocked a brow and then swung her knee over, straddling his thighs and surprising the hell out of him. “Don’t give me any ideas. I do enjoy being in charge in other areas of my life.”
His tongue pressed to the back of his teeth at the feel of her straddling him, her hands on his shoulders, giving him a delicious view down her loose shirt. “Andi, feel free to get any goddamned ideas you want.”
Her fingers curled into his T-shirt, her gaze meeting his. “To be one hundred percent honest, my experience is extremely limited. So even though I’ve figured some things out on my own, I don’t know a lot about what I like and don’t like yet with guys.”
On my own. Aaaand he was done. Picturing Andi getting herself off was enough to send his starved libido into a seizure. All his blood rushed south, and his cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans. He felt his ears go hot, embarrassed that he was on such a hair trigger. “Sorry. Obviously, I’m happy to be your test subject.”
Andi glanced down, her eyes widening slightly. But when she looked back up, instead of her expression saying Dude, control yourself, it seemed to be saying Well, hello there. She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned down, putting her mouth a breath away from his. “I have to say, knowing I can do that with just words does feel pretty damn powerful.”
He wanted to reach out and touch her so badly, slide his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, feel her skin, kiss her neck, find out what sounds she made. But he kept his palms glued to the couch cushions. “It’s not just your words, Andi. If you haven’t noticed, you’re fucking gorgeous. And smart. And—”
Her lips touched his, cutting him off and making his eyelids fall shut. Her hands went to his jaw, holding him where she wanted him, and her tongue touched his. The kiss was hungrier than the ones earlier, more urgent, like she was daring herself to take it a little further. She deepened the kiss and shifted on his lap, settling against him, the hard ridge of his erection pressing at the apex of her thighs. He groaned into her mouth, the heat of her body apparent even through his jeans, and she made a delicious noise in the back of her throat. He lifted his hands, wanting to grab her waist, to angle her where he could make her feel even better, but he caught his mistake just in time. He planted his hands against the couch again.
Trust. Above all else, that was what she needed from him. To be able to trust his word.
He refused to let her down.
She broke away from the kiss, still holding his face in her hands. Her blue eyes were a little dazed, and she was out of breath. “I want your shirt off.”
“Then take it off,” he said. “I’ve been told not to use my hands.”
She bit down on her bottom lip, eyes smiling. “So you have.”
She reached for the bottom edge of his T-shirt and then lifted it over his head before tossing the shirt somewhere behind the couch. Her palm pressed against his chest, a hot brand of skin-to-skin contact.
A flash of insecurity went through him. In the past, he’d been proud of his body, working hard to keep in top shape for the fire department, but he didn’t look how he used to. He had scars from the fire, places where hair would never grow again, raised pink stripes where the edges of a burning wooden beam had landed on him.
But when he looked up at Andi’s face, the sharp edges of self-consciousness softened. He never claimed to know a woman’s mind, but right now, Andi’s poker face was nonexistent. That wasn’t the look of revulsion or pity. It was the look of a woman who wanted things. Who wanted him.
***
Andi had been prepared for the scars. She’d gotten a brief look that day she’d surprised Hill at his house, but what she hadn’t been prepared for was the full-body kick of arousal that shot through her at the sight of him without his shirt. She was already running hot, the feel of his erection pressing between her legs about to drive her mad. But now she wanted to touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere, see all of him.
However, even in the haze of arousal, she knew she wasn’t ready for that step. She’d made that mistake the last time she’d tried something physical with a guy. She’d rushed, trying to outrun her anxiety, but it was faster and more cunning than she’d given it credit for. She needed to be careful not to go too fast too soon. If she got spooked, she could ruin this whole thing and set herself back.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t do some things, though.
She let her fingertips travel down the solid muscles of Hill’s chest, over the smooth, raised patches of scars, and then lower to the ridges of his abdomen. His belly flexed beneath her fingers as he hissed out a breath. “Andi.”
She loved the ache in his voice, the need. She liked knowing that she was getting to him as much as he was getting to her. And the fact that he hadn’t touched her, had kept his hands at his sides, gave her a burst of confidence. She reached down and pulled her top over her head, tossing it to the side, and leaving her in her lacy purple bra.
Hill’s gaze ate her up as he groaned softly. “Jesus. You’re perfect.”
His voice was pure sex. She could imagine it against her ear as he stretched out on top of her, pushed inside her. But the image was too much right now. If he lay on top of her, she’d panic for sure. So instead, she reached down and took his wrist in her hand again. She lifted his hand, her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings against her ribs, and pressed his palm against her lace-covered breast. “You can touch me here.”
His eyes flared with heat, and he cupped her breast, the warmth and weight of his palm waking up every nerve ending there. His thumb brushed across her nipple, and her flesh tightened and pushed against the lace, sending a shudder of need through her.
“Can I kiss you here?” he asked, his voice a soft rumble.
Andi swallowed past the knot in her throat and nodded. “As long as you promise to stop everything if I say stop.”
“Always.” His gaze bore into hers, his liquid brown eyes reflecting the lamplight. “I mean it. You say stop, slow down, back off, I’m going to listen. Nothing happens that you don’t want to happen, okay?”
She rubbed her lips together, the words winding their way through her, and she nodded. “Okay.”
“Come ’ere,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to her back and gently easing her forward. “Let me make you feel good.”