Shaken by Heather Long

possible, but she wanted more. She wanted a chance to play with him—to explore him and to touch every inch of his gorgeous, bronze skin.
    “Hey.” He teased her with a whisper of a kiss. “Give me a minute and we’ll make it to the bedroom.”
    “Okay. Good day?”
    “It is now.”
    They laughed.
     

Chapter Seven
     
     
    The dark, early hours of Sunday morning….
    Tony cupped his hand and smacked her bare, wiggling ass, then grinned at her little snort of outrage. “You’re gonna spill the lasagna all over yourself.”
    “I wouldn’t wiggle if you’d quit playing with my ass while you’re eating.”
    They sprawled on Zip’s bed, naked and comfy. He’d demolished the lasagna and bread for dinner, but, after three hours of playing, he was hungry all over again. She’d brought him a plate, and he liked perching it on her butt. It dimpled when the cool plate touched it, and he could trail his fingers up and down her thighs while he ate—so much better than watching a game.
    “You know, some women would appreciate my fondness for their ass. And, seriously, yours is sweet, round, and has just the right amount of curve for a man to hold onto.” He grew steadily harder while they talked. Just imagining her bent over so he could stroke her ass while he slid his cock into her hot pussy waved a red flag in front of his libido.
    Lying lengthwise, Zip propped her chin in her hands and watched him critically in the mirror. Her cheeks were scarlet, a shade he’d begun to think might be permanent, particularly after they had sex on her dining room table. The memory of her mortified, this was my grandmother’s comment brought a fresh, tangled wave of humor, affection, and lust.
    “I’m not some women.” Her eyebrows rose in challenge, and he kissed the skin he’d just smacked.
    “No, you’re not. In fact, you make a mean lasagna, and I have to say it’s the second best thing I’ve had in this bed.”
    “Oh?”
    “Hmm.” He removed the plate and placed it on the nightstand. “Definitely the second, but, if you’re skeptical, let me share with you the best thing.”
    Her laughter shimmied through him. He flipped her over and ran his tongue down her belly to lick her clit. She was swollen and wet, as eager for him as he for her. The heady combination of relaxation and lust rolled through his mind.
    Somehow, every time he touched her, his craving for her increased.
     
     
    ****
     
     
    Ten a.m. Sunday
    Zip rested on an elbow and studied the length of his slumbering body. Sometime in the night, they’d kicked off all the blankets. He appeared so sweet and relaxed, one arm across his eyes and the other flung out where she’d been sleeping against him. He didn’t hog the bed; if anything, he enclosed her and kept her snuggled to his side. She’d drifted off, pillowed on his chest, the rush and bump of his heart rate and deep breaths lulling her.
    Skating her hand lightly over his skin, she followed the musculature down to his waist and then skimmed to his hips. Two nights before, she’d curled up in her fuzzy socks, thick pajamas and passed out to the late night chatter of Letterman, but she’d only been half as comfortable as she had been three hours earlier when she’d fallen asleep with Tony.
    His cock twitched under her light touch. She stole a glance up at his closed eyes—he was still asleep. His breathing sounded deep and regular. Scooting carefully lower on the bed, she brushed her fingers along the semi-flaccid shaft. It quivered with each brush along his length. She explored the contours of the head, thumb flicking lightly over the slit at the tip.
    The skin hardened and thickened under the gentlest of caresses. A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. Every time they’d come together, she’d been too preoccupied by what he was doing to her to play with him. A drop of moisture beaded along the slit.
    Stealing another peek along his slumbering length, she considered indulging the naughty