“I don’t get it. How is it that with someone as beautiful as you, no one has ever made love to you?”
“I’m not beautiful, for one.”
His mouth fell open. “You are not beautiful? Are you daft?!”
An elegantly arched eyebrow went up. “Not at all. I know what I look like.”
“Shall I enumerate the ways you are beautiful?”
“This shouldn’t take long.”
A corner of his mouth curved up. She was quickly learning how to snark. “Let’s start with your most beautiful feature: You’re highly intelligent.”
She shook her head, sending auburn tresses flying. “No I’m not.”
He lightly pushed her shoulder. “You’re a flipping author for sobbing out loud.”
“I’m not published, nor am I signed.”
“Well, ho-lee shee-it. You are absolutely correct: You’re a fucking moron then.”
“I’m being facetious, Baby Girl.”
“You don’t have to be mean to be sarcastic.”
“True, though it does help make the point.”
The inflection she put into his voice warned him he was close to her limits. “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to do it anymore.”
She lightly shoved his shoulder. “You’d better not.” Her hazel eyes twinkled. “What other delusions have you thinking I’m beautiful?”
“You have a wonderful sense of humor.”
“That reminds me of a joke.”
“Everything reminds you of a joke.”
“No, that’s you.”
He nodded. “That’s true.”
“Do you want to hear it, or not?”
“Three blondes walk into a bar. You’d think that one of them would have seen it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “That was so delightfully bad. I love it.”
She beamed. “I knew you would.”
“The way your eyes sparkle puts the stars to shame.”
She turned pink. “Thank you.” Her voice was so soft, he almost had to strain to make out her words.
“You’re breasts are wonderful.”
“They’re a 36C, and they sag. That’s what happens when you breastfeed.”
He lightly cupped her left one and softly squeezed it, eliciting a moan. “It feels marvelous.” He trailed his hand down her belly. “Your abs are nicely defined.”
“I’m a runner.”
“I know.” Both hands rested on her yoga pants clad hips, his thumbs pointing towards her sex. “Your hips have a delightful swell to them.” He gave them a gentle squeeze with slightly more pressure under his thumbs.
Her hips arched forward in response. “Mmm.”
“Do you like that?” His voice was rougher. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Open your eyes and tell me.”
Her eyes opened, revealing the irises had darkened and her pupils dilated . “I like it.”
“Your thumbs are on one of my spots.” Her voice was noticeably huskier.
He smiled lazily at her. “What happens if I do this?” His thumbs slid closer to her sex, and pressed a little more firmly.
She gasped as her hips bucked under his skilled hands once more. “That.” It was a moan.
Tom tugged her down to the couch, and lay back against the arm. She lay on the outside, and he on the in. “Kim?”
“What do you think of this?” His index finger traced the outline of her.
Her whole body arched, and she purred. “Stop teasing me, Tom,” she pleaded.
In response, he slid his finger over the front of her yoga pants, starting from the curve of her crotch, and slowly moving up to her waistband. He delighted in the way her body reacted to his movements: The bucking of her hips, the arching of her back, the increased heat of her sex, the moans, and the sallower breaths.
When his fingers slipped behind the elastic at her waist, the heat and humidity they discovered took his breath away. She was really turned on.