Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel

by Melonie Johnson

  “Yes,” she said, instantly, breathlessly.

  He pulled his hand from her grip and tucked a finger under her chin. He leaned in, eyes still intent on hers. She was unmoored, adrift in the penetrating ocean-blue depths.

  “That’s all that matters,” he said, smiling.

  Those dimples appeared, and Bonnie was a goner. Call in the Coast Guard, she was going under. She reached up, gripping his shoulders for support, and pulled him closer.

  Smile still curving his lips, Theo bent his head and kissed her. He took his time, giving her mouth the same detailed attention he’d given her fingers. His hands came around her, roving up her back and threading through her hair as he deepened the kiss, tongue stroking over her lips. And then he was thrusting inside, delving deep into her mouth. He groaned, low in his throat, making that raspy, rumbling animal sound she felt as much as heard.

  She shivered, and if she’d thought she was drowning before, it was nothing to the sensations battering her senses now. She was caught in a whirlpool, and he was the vortex, sucking her tongue into his mouth, pulling her down, down, down.

  But he was the one going down. Releasing her mouth, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

  Bonnie gasped, gulping air as she stared down at him. Theo trailed his fingers along the backs of her legs, tickling her calves. He gripped the hem of her skirt and slid it up, palms grazing her thighs. The fabric bunched around her hips, and when he began to pull her tights down, Bonnie squeaked.

  His hands froze. “Still okay?” he asked, glancing up at her.

  She nodded mutely.

  He snared his thumbs inside the elastic band of her panties, and then paused, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m okay,” she croaked, and attempted to offer him a reassuring smile.

  “Okay,” he repeated. “Good.” He tugged her panties and tights all the way down, bending low to pull them off. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

  Oh, God. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Bonnie struggled for balance. Had she ever heard Theo use the f-word? The crisp sophistication of his accent somehow made it sound dirtier. The way it slipped from his lips, raw and gritty, while he was face to face with her, well … that. She swallowed hard. Would he do those things he’d done to her fingers, to her mouth … down there?

  “So pretty,” he murmured, still staring at her. “Almost too pretty to eat.”

  Oh, please God, yes. Suddenly Bonnie understood why her friend Sadie got all religious sounding when she was horny. A giggle escaped her.

  “Something funny?” He rested back on his heels, fingers stroking up her bare legs.

  “I’m ticklish,” she evaded, which wasn’t a lie. She giggled again when he curved his hands around her bottom, the featherlight brush of his palms teasing her sensitive skin.

  “Everywhere?” he asked, a wicked gleam lighting the depths of his ocean eyes.

  “Maybe?” She licked her lips. “Only one way to find out.”

  Whoa, did that come out of her mouth?

  It must have, because he was grinning, those dimples in full force. The backs of her knees prickled, and she bit her lip. Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.

  He kept his hands firmly planted on her bottom and pulled her toward him.

  She flinched, but he didn’t do what she’d expected. Instead, he rained little kisses over the soft curve of her stomach, then dipped his tongue into her belly button.

  “Hey!” She burst into a spasm of giggles.

  “Hmm,” he mused, face a mask of analytic contemplation. “Definitely ticklish there.”

  “Let someone stick a tongue in your belly button and see if you don’t laugh.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  Bonnie gulped, but didn’t back down. “Maybe.”

  “Tell you what.” He squeezed her bottom, and she realized his hands were still glued to her butt. “If I can make you laugh again, I win. If not, you win.”

  “What do I win?” she asked, feeling silly and playful and incredibly turned on all at the same time.

  “Whatever you want,” he countered, his confident tone telling her he fully believed she would lose.

  “Does this mean, if you win, you get whatever you want?” she asked.

  “Indeed.” His hands shifted, drifting down over her hips, thumbs tracing the outline of curls at the juncture of her thighs. That move alone sent shivers pulsing through her, and she almost lost the game before it began.

  She schooled her face and stared down at him. Tried to pretend she wasn’t basically naked below the waist, and he had a bird’s eye view of the landscape.

  Speaking of landscape, when was the last time she’d trimmed things down there? Why are you even thinking about that right now?

  Crouching lower, his lips followed the path of his thumbs. His breath tickled, and she clamped her lips together, determined not to laugh again. When his mouth moved lower, she resisted the urge to clamp her legs together too. She was shaking, her entire body tingling.

  He paused, glancing up at her. “Was that a laugh?”

  “Nope.” Her throat worked.

  He bent his head again, running his tongue along her center while his thumbs slid to the outside of her folds, stroking up and down. She moaned as a glimmer of pleasure flitted through her. Light and quick, like stones skipping across the glassy surface of a lake.

  “That’s right, love,” he responded instantly, thumbs spreading her open as his tongue dipped inside. “Christ, you’re sweet.”

  Oh God. Oh God. She bit down and breathed through her nose, slow and deep. In and out. In and out. The urge to laugh had completely abandoned her. What he was doing now wasn’t tickling her, it was making her restless, achy. Needy. Her thighs trembled, and she widened her stance, opening herself to him even more.

  A low growl erupted from his throat, and it was so unexpected, so masculine and feral and … hot, it made her instantly wet. He growled again, deeper in his chest this time, and Bonnie felt it vibrate all through her. Her knees buckled, and in a flash, she was flat on her back, bare ass scraping against the hotel carpet.

  Theo was on her in a heartbeat, crouching over her on all fours. His hair was mussed, falling in his face, eyes dark as a midnight sea. Gone was the polite British gentleman who wouldn’t start a meal before she did. In his place was this fierce and hungry animal.

  He ducked his head, lapping at her. He devoured her, there was no other word for it. Sucking and biting and thrusting his tongue inside of her again and again until she was clenching her fingers in his hair, rocking her hips back and forth. Faster, harder, more, please more, more.

  “Oh,” she gasped as the ripples of pleasure became a tidal wave, sensation rolling through her.

  He flipped her onto her stomach and pushed forward, pressing against her, hot and hard and.… oh. Beneath the thin fabric of his pants, the thick head of his erection rubbed between her legs. She could feel him. There.

  She bucked backward. She wanted him to move again. Press against her like that again.

  * * *

  Theo lay on top of her, chest to her back, cock nestled between her spread thighs, hips cushioned by the lush pillow of her bum. He pressed himself against her, grinding against her backside. The friction was exquisite torture. He was wearing too many bloody clothes. He needed to get closer, deeper. He rested his hands on either side of her head, palms pressing into the hotel carpet and thrust harder, back and forth, back and forth.

  She shuddered beneath him.

  “Shit.” He braced himself, taking his weight off her. “Sorry.”

  She tilted her head to the side, face in profile, cheek resting in the crook of her arms. “What are you sorry for?” Her words came out in breathy gasps.

  “For crushing you.” He pushed himself up to his knees. “You can barely breathe.” He pulled her upright, so she was kneeling as well.

  She shifted, leaning back against his chest and tucking her head under his chin. “That’s not why I was out of breat
h,” she said, voice still husky.

  “Is that a fact?”

  “That’s a fact,” she purred, rubbing against him like a cat.

  “I see,” he rasped, in desperate need of more oxygen himself. Her skirt was still bunched around her hips. He grasped the tangle of fabric in his hands and tugged it off, fingers trailing along her bare thighs.

  She shivered.

  “Cold?” He hesitated, hands on the hem of her sweater.

  She shook her head, curls tickling his neck and chin.

  He proceeded to lift her sweater, tugging it up. She raised her arms, helping him pull it off.

  Theo tossed the garment aside, then rested on his heels, drinking her in from behind. She glowed in the soft light of the desk lamp, a galaxy of freckles sprinkled across her back and shoulders. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing constellations on her skin before slipping beneath the delicate lace of her bra, “so beautiful.”

  He unhooked it, letting it fall off her shoulders and to the floor as he reached around to palm her breasts, thumbs flicking the pointed tips of her dusky pink nipples.

  She moaned and leaned back, and he bent his head over her, capturing her mouth, stealing the sounds of her pleasure, taking them into himself. They needed to get off the floor. He needed to get out of these damn clothes. Theo broke the kiss. “Come on,” he said, reluctantly releasing her breasts. He got to his feet and helped her stand.

  She turned to face him, cheeks flushed, eyes hazed with lust. “Where are we going?”

  “The balcony.”

  She frowned and covered her breasts.

  “I’m teasing.” He chuckled. “Where else would I take a gorgeous, naked woman?” He nodded his head toward the door of the suite’s bedroom. “My bed.”

  “Oh,” she said, still frowning, little rosebud mouth pursed. “You go first. I don’t want you looking at my butt.”

  Another chuckle escaped him; he couldn’t help it. But he turned without arguing and headed for the bedroom. “I like looking at your bum,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s a very nice bum.”

  She snorted.

  He stepped inside the bedroom, then stopped, turning around to face her.

  Unprepared for his abrupt change in course, she kept walking and slammed right into him.

  Before she could back up, he reached his arms around her and pulled her closer. His hands snaked down her back.

  “You’re going to grab my butt, aren’t you?”

  He paused. “That was my plan, yes. Do you mind?”

  “You are a strange man.” She shook her head.

  “Perhaps,” he conceded.

  “And this is a strange situation.”

  “Definitely.” Theo drummed his fingers on the base of her spine. “Well? Can I grab your bum now?”

  Bonnie laughed. An explosion of sound like a Christmas cracker, sprinkling the room in joyful surprises.

  He smiled triumphantly. “You laughed. I win.”

  “No fair!” Bonnie wiggled out of his grasp. “I didn’t know we were still playing that game!”

  “Not fair, huh?”

  She shook her head emphatically, curls … and other things … bouncing.

  “You know what else isn’t fair?” Bonnie narrowed her eyes, catching him in the act of ogling. “I’m standing here naked, and you still have all your clothes on.”

  “Well, I do want to win fair and square.” He reached for the top button on his shirt. “Can I claim my prize if I get undressed?”

  Her mouth curved. “Maybe.” She tapped her chin in speculation. “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Still want to grab my bum?” she asked, imitating his accent.

  He nodded.

  “Then do it. Close your eyes.”

  “Fine.” The moment he shut his eyes, a flurry of movement sounded around him. What the bloody hell was she up to? “Can I open them now?”

  “Not yet.” Her voice had shifted to across the room.

  “Now?”

  “Almost…” More scurrying sounds. “Now.”

  He tentatively cracked one eye open, relaxing when he realized all she’d done was get into bed and crawl under the covers.

  The sight of her in his bed, red curls spread out over her bare freckled shoulders, his sheets wrapped around her … Theo swallowed hard.

  From her spot on the bed, she called out in a haughty voice, “You may disrobe now.”

  Theo grinned, he liked this new game. He bowed low. “Yes, m’lady.”

  She giggled as he undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt. She was nervous, he knew that. And if playacting helped her relax, he was up for it. He was bloody up for anything she wanted. He yanked off his belt, cursing under his breath as he tried to work the zipper over his swollen cock. Kicking off his trousers, he moved toward the bed.

  “Ahem.” She cleared her throat and eyed him pointedly. “The rest, if you please.”

  Well, mate, you wanted her to call your bluff. Theo put a hand on the waistband of his shorts and stepped closer to the bed. If she wanted to look, he would make sure she got a front row seat. He tugged the fabric down, expecting her to grow bashful and look away any second, but damn if she didn’t keep staring at him the whole time.

  Heat crept up Theo’s face. Bloody hell, he was blushing. His cock suffered no such embarrassment however, springing forward with such enthusiasm it was almost obscene. He glanced down at himself. Correction. It was definitely obscene.

  She didn’t seem to think so, though. Her concentrated gaze took in every last detail. “For someone who didn’t want her bum ogled, you’re quite the ogler yourself,” he observed drily.

  “Oh.” A flush crept up her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. “Sorry.”

  Theo immediately regretted his words. He didn’t want her to be sorry. He didn’t want her to feel ashamed. He climbed into bed next to her. “No apologies, princess.”

  She smiled, the tension easing out of her. She rolled to her side, facing him across the pillow. “It’s just, I’ve seen only one, um…” She paused. “One of those before. And I was curious.”

  “Ah.” He tamped down the surge of jealousy at the thought of those gorgeous eyes resting on some other bloke’s dick. “Well, no comparisons, all right?”

  She giggled, then rolled again onto her stomach. “Go ahead.” The softly rounded curves of her bum wobbled temptingly beneath the white linen. “Grab a handful.”

  When he didn’t move, she raised herself up on her elbows, propping her chin in her hands. “You weren’t expecting me to hold up my end of the bargain, were you?”

  “Uh, no. And now I feel all pervy about it.”

  She giggled again. “Come on, you know you want to.” She teased in a singsong voice, scooting closer and wiggling her bum some more.

  A moment later her bare bottom brushed against the head of his bare cock, and they both froze. The air became charged, all sense of playfulness vanishing.

  “Should I get something?”

  “What?”

  They were naked. In bed. What did she think he should be getting? Usually she was quite quick-witted. Though admittedly, his own thought process was moving slower than normal. Theo shifted, easing back, putting space between their bodies. Giving them room to think. The condom Logan had forced on him earlier this evening was still in his pocket. He turned and stretched his arm out, grabbing his trousers off the floor and fishing for the foil packet. He held it up.

  “Oh,” she said, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Oh!” she said again, brow furrowing. “Do guys just carry those around with them everywhere?”

  “Some do.” Lucky for him, Logan was one of them.

  “Do you all have sex on the brain twenty-four seven?”

  His mouth quirked. “Let me ask you something.” He set the condom on the bedside table. “Are you on the pill?”

  Her eyes widened, but she answered him. “Yes.”

  Good to know. Not tha
t it would prevent him from using a rubber, but still. “You take it every day, right?”

  “You’re supposed to.”

  “I know. Three sisters, remember?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s your point?”

  “Do you have ‘sex on the brain twenty-four seven’ because you take the pill?”

  She scowled at him. “Point made.”

  He smiled.

  Bonnie sighed.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Your smile,” she said, eyes bright and clear as a rare sunny day in London.

  “Hey, no jokes about Brits with bad teeth allowed.”

  “It’s not that. Your teeth are fine.” She reached a hand out, running a finger first down one side of his face, then the other. “I’m talking about these.”

  “My cheeks?”

  “Your dimples.” She sighed again. “They’re my kryptonite.”

  “What, like Superman?” His smile grew wider.

  “You’re doing that on purpose!” she accused.

  “No, I’m not.” He gave her the biggest grin yet. “Okay, maybe I am. A little.” He scooted closer, until their noses almost touched. “Is it working?”

  “I’m lying down, so it’s not as bad right now.”

  “My dimples make you dizzy?”

  She shook her head, and a lock of hair fell across her face. “It’s my knees. When you smile at me … the backs of my knees get all prickly, and my legs turn to water.”

  “How extraordinary.” He brushed the curl aside. “And how long have you been suffering from this affliction?”

  “Since the first time I saw you,” she confessed, eyes piercing his, pulling him into their endless blue depths.

  Theo’s breath caught in his chest, his lungs stalling. He felt—to borrow Bonnie’s description—all prickly. When he was able to breathe again, he realized she was crying. Tears crept from the corners of her eyes. He wiped a thumb across her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “Am I a bad person?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I was engaged when I met you.”

  “And?”

  “And?” She sniffled. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I had…” She dropped her gaze, tear-thickened auburn lashes hiding her eyes. “Dreams about you.”