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stroking her clit in time with his tongue on her nipple. Then he shifted between her legs, parting them over her shoulders, turning his head to kiss his way up her left thigh, the prickle of his stubble delicious, and she was as swollen and wet as if he hadn’t just fucked her.
    “I liked it when you sucked me,” he said against her skin, his mouth high on her thigh. “I want to taste you, Teresa.”
    Yes, yes, yes, her body screamed, but all she could do was open her legs wider in invitation.
    He situated himself and parted her labia with his fingers, then blew a long breath against her wet flesh. “Damn, girl, you’re wet. I wish I was hard enough to slide back inside you.”
    She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to talk dirty. But then he took all power of speech from her when he kissed her clit, a close-mouthed caress, then flicked it with his tongue. Her fingers flexed in the bedding, wadding it as she strained not to push against his mouth, as she fought her desire to hold his head against her.
    Teasing her now, he dipped his tongue into her channel, just a little, enough to have her bowing off the bed at the intimacy. She’d never felt anything like it, and wanted more, but didn’t know how to ask, didn’t know how he liked to perform oral sex—God, a stupid, clinical term for something so fucking hot. How he liked to go down, that was better, but it made her think of the other women he’d done this with before.
    He did it again, his tongue fluttering a little inside her, and she got wetter, hotter, so desperate to push against him, she held her breath and clenched those sheets.
    “Like that?” he asked, his mouth millimeters away from where she needed it.
    “Yes!” The word pushed out on her last breath, and he repeated the flutter. And again.
    She came, no longer able to control herself, pushing her hips toward him as his mouth played over her pussy, draining every ounce of pleasure.
    Then he was over her, and in her, hard and thick, rocking against her in the same rhythm she’d experienced on the horse, but oh, so much, better, her channel clasping his length so that she felt everything, every inch of him, each stroke pressing his weight on her pubic bone. Just when she thought all the pleasure was done, her body fired back up again.
    She groaned and moved into him, this pace easy, sexy as sin, especially when he kissed her, filling her with her own flavor. She’d never—she tried to turn away, but he insisted, and she found it intoxicating, flicking her tongue at the corners of his mouth to capture it all. He groaned against her lips, cupped her hips in his hands and thrust faster.
    This time when she flew apart, he followed her.

 
     
     
Chapter Two
     
     
    Teresa crept into the house the following morning, feeling at once relaxed and tired. West’s quest to give her pleasure had not allowed for much sleeping. Leaving his bed this morning had been hard. When she’d slipped out of bed and he’d given her that sexy sleepy smile and held out his hand to her, she’d almost given in. She hadn’t wanted to tell him, hadn’t wanted to seem old-fashioned after what they did last night, that she wanted to get to church. She’d already asked Grace to borrow her car, so she just needed to shower and grab the keys.
    She thought about West’s tiny shower, and what it would be like to shower in it with him.
    Ridiculous. She couldn’t allow herself romantic thoughts. This was just sex, just amazing, amazing sex.
    Yeah, she might not be in the best state of mind to go to church.
    She was walking out of the bathroom, dressed but with her hair hanging wet, when she heard the click of a door down the hall. Hoping it was Noah, who she could divert with the mention of church—he’d gone with her once and been miserable—she pasted a smile on her face and turned.
    Grace wrapped her robe around her and motioned Teresa toward the kitchen.
    “You’re up early,” Teresa said, glancing at the