Smart and Sexy Read online

  smooth, beautiful back, the way her sexy-as-hell panties had given her a world-class wedgie—

  “Noah?”

  Right. The bra. “Yeah,” he said, tearing his eyes off her ass and the wet satin invading it, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears as he unhooked her bra.

  Head bent, she let the material fall to the floor. Unable to help himself, his gaze slid back down. “Uh—”

  Her fingers hooked into the little wisp of material still at her hips.

  Again, he stopped breathing.

  With a tug and a little shimmy, she began to slide the panties off.

  And for just a moment, he actually died.

  Oblivious, she bent over, and he realized he hadn’t died, not yet anyway, because there was blood rushing through his veins, beating with a loud BOOM, BOOM, BOOM at the sight of her as she bent, naked, totally exposed—

  “Tired,” she murmured, and straightening, crawled up onto the mattress, nearly making his eyes pop right out of their sockets at the sight of her briefly on all fours as she moved to the center of the bed.

  She was the most gorgeous, sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  Then she slipped beneath the covers, turned on her side away from him, and didn’t budge.

  “Yeah, uh…I’ll just crank the electric blanket.” He did that, then stood there like the fool he was, dripping all over the carpet, shivering, hard as a rock.

  And there was nothing, nothing in the world, worse than being in wet Levi’s when hard as a rock.

  She didn’t move.

  “I’m going to get out of my wet things,” he heard himself say.

  She didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t say a word.

  He unbuttoned his Levi’s and grimaced as he attempted to shuck himself out of the wet denim. He’d already kicked off his shoes, so he tried to get his drenched sock off, but that turned out not to be a good idea with his jeans stuck wet and clinging to his thighs, and he fell over.

  Lying on the floor, his ass hanging out, his legs caught in the damned wet jeans, he sighed. “I’m okay,” he said.

  To no one.

  When he managed to kick free of the jeans, he stood up. All he could see of Bailey was the top of her still damp hair, but he could have sworn he could hear her teeth chattering together.

  Damn.

  Well, that left him no choice, right? He had to warm her up, ward off the impending hypothermia. It was his civic duty. So he quickly dried off, lifted the edge of the comforter, and slid in. Oh, yeah, the sheets were warm, thanks to the electric blanket and the down comforter.

  So he had no idea why he breached the halfway point of the huge bed and bumped up against a nude, curvy, deliciously warm Bailey. Oops. He was on her side. Unfortunately, his arms slid around her before he could stop himself, and he pulled her back against his chest and thighs, snuggling in.

  “Mmm,” left her lips, but other than that, she said nothing.

  Nor did she move away. In fact, she didn’t move at all.

  Encouraged by that, he braced his head on one hand, the other skimming up her side as he looked down at the only thing visible outside the covers—her face.

  And had to laugh.

  She was asleep. As in dead-to-the-world, one-hundred-percent asleep, while he was hotter than he’d ever been, harder than he’d ever been….

  For a woman so terrorized, she didn’t even realize he was in bed with her. He didn’t care. He had no idea how sick that made him, but was fairly certain it made him pretty sick.

  In her sleep, she snuffled and made some sort of soft whimper. “Shh,” he murmured, hand on her belly, stroking lightly up and down. “I’ve got you.”

  Absorbing his words, she sighed, and wriggled just a little bit closer, which involved her sweet bare ass pressing into his hard-enough-to-hammer-steel self.

  She slept on.

  Yeah, that was good for the ego.

  She sighed again, wriggled again for more. Her hair tickled his nose, and instead of brushing it away, he buried his face in the rioted mess, then found himself pressing his mouth to her neck.

  God, she was sweet. Sweet and pale with exhaustion, and he just breathed her in. He needed to let her sleep. But unable to resist, he smoothed her damp hair off her face and let his mouth take itself on a little trail down her throat and back up to her ear, breathing her in as if she could be his air.

  Her hand squeezed his, and another little sigh escaped her, though she didn’t awaken. He thought of the night she’d had, of the days leading up to it that he still didn’t know enough about to suit him, and understood whatever happened had been brutal, and she’d been through hell. Empathy swamped him, and he rubbed his jaw down the side of her neck.

  “Mmmm,” she sighed again, with another enticing wriggle, and this time something else rose within him, something far more physically based.

  He danced his hand up and down her belly again. Up, up…

  To the very undersides of her breasts…

  Oh, God, she felt like heaven…and down, down low enough to run into the very tippy top of her strawberry blond mound…

  Again she rocked her bottom against him, making him twitch.

  A little whimpery sound that in fact could have been a half sob escaped her and tore at his gut. He pressed his lips to her jaw, her cheek, helpless to resist her smooth skin. Her breathing evened out at just the feel of him, and that, too, brought a deep surge of satisfaction. “I’ve got you,” he murmured.

  “Noah,” she murmured, not moving, not even to open her eyes.

  “Yeah. Me.” Feeling the weight of her exhaustion, he was glad she didn’t move. He kissed her jaw again, and then her throat, groaning when she took his wandering hand in both of hers and brought it up to her breasts.

  His fingers stroked her hard, pebbled nipples as his mouth worked its way to her shoulder, nudging the covers down as he went so he could lean over her and get a good look at what he exposed. He completely melted at the sight of her pale breasts and his own tanned fingers playing with her nipples. He let the blanket fall to her waist.

  And the truth hit him like a one-two punch—the more he saw of her, the more he wanted, and the stronger the need for her became.

  What was that?

  He had no idea, but neither did he have any resistance to fight it. It was a wrenching realization of how bad he had it for her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  In answer, she burrowed back beneath the covers so that he could see nothing now but a cloud of strawberry blond waves, but…but she didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, she pushed it down, while he tried to keep from drooling all over her, tried to keep from begging her to continue letting him touch her because her nipples were the most gorgeous nipples he’d ever seen….

  But where she pushed his hand—past her quivering belly into the slippery satin and between her thighs—worked, too, and he spread his fingers to touch as much of her as he could.

  She let out a needy murmur, one that had his name on it, and nearly had him coming right then and there.

  “Noah,” she gasped, her body arching up when he moved his fingers, increasing the rhythm. God, he still couldn’t get enough of her.

  Still fully covered by the down comforter, she rolled to her back, giving him better access.

  Which he gladly took.

  Keeping his hand on her, he slid his face just beneath the blanket, pressing his mouth to her shoulder while working her into a feverish pitch with his fingers. Another soft sound came from her throat, and she blindly turned her face toward his. An invitation if ever he’d seen one, and he snatched it, lowering his mouth to hers.

  She made the sound again and opened her legs for him, and he didn’t hold back, running his tongue over her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth to suck, then caressing it again as he glided his fingers over her. Into her.

  She gasped his name, and he leaned over her, inhaling her scent, the soft feel of her beneath him, the way she panted in his ear, how h