She loved the way he kissed her, the way he started out slow, then got faster and more demanding, his kisses hungrier and more urgent as his tongue dipped inside her mouth. Ty pulled back and took her glasses off. He tucked them in the corner of the tent, then took her shoulders and rolled her so she was on top of him.

Sprawled across his chest, she asked, “So what do you have in mind?”

“First you’re going to kiss me.”

Grinning, she leaned down and moved her mouth over his, enjoying the control the angle gave her. “Yeah? And then?”

“Now you’re going to sit on my face.”

Subtle as usual, Ty was. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He started to push her back so she’d sit up. “And why do we keep saying ‘yeah’ to each other?”

“Because we don’t know what else to say?” Imogen hadn’t even noticed, which was interesting because usually she noticed everything.

“Yet another reason to put my tongue to better use.” Now he was tugging on her hips, trying to get her to scoot forward on his chest.

Imogen was sitting up at his urging, but was looking around the tent, wondering how she could manage the position he wanted without a headboard. “I don’t have anything to hold on to,” she told him.

Ty took her hands and placed them on her breasts. “Hold these.”

She laughed. “That’s not going to give me balance.”

“But it looks good.” His eyebrows went up and down as he gave her a naughty look. “Rub your nipples a little.”

“No. I don’t think any of this is going to work, Ty.” Maybe it would physically, but for some reason she felt awkward and self-conscious.

He didn’t even bother to respond. He just yanked her forward until her thighs were on either side of him. Spreading her apart, he slid his tongue along her. It was an intimate position, one that surrounded his head with her body, and left her sitting up, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

One of his hands snaked up and covered hers, his thumb rubbing across her beaded nipple. “We can change positions if you really want to,” he murmured between flicks of his tongue.

Imogen almost said yes. She wasn’t used to being so out there in the air, so to speak. But then she hesitated. “Do you like this position?”

“I like looking up at you. I like seeing you in the power position, taking what you like. But I want you comfortable. Hell, I want you more than comfortable. I want you moaning and writhing and coming all over me.”

That was a good plan. Imogen closed her eyes and took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders. What difference did it make how her body was positioned? Would a woman who was truly confident in her sexuality hesitate to sit up when a man was offering to give her oral sex? Of course not, and Imogen wanted to be that woman. She wanted to stop thinking and just feel.