Her body tenses as I slip my hands beneath the hem of her shirt and slowly slide the fabric up. She lifts her arms and I pull the shirt over her head. I proceed to do the same thing with her shorts.

No words.

Just my hands relaying what I want. What my request is. And as if in perfect sync with my thoughts, she does what I want.

She steps out of her shorts so that she’s standing in front of me in a black lacy bra, matching panties, and strappy sandals.

Fucking perfection.

“Gunner,” she says and tries to turn around, but is met with my lips kissing right above the swell of her ass in the middle of her back. My hands grip her hips, and I use my lips and tongue and stubble to taunt and tease the line of her spine. Each open-mouthed kiss a deliberate action. Slow. Methodical. Teasing.

Torture for me on all levels.

My fingers undo the clasp of her bra as my teeth scrape over the top of her shoulder. Her back arches and her head falls to my shoulder, as my hands slide to cup her breasts. To play with her nipples as my lips find the nape of her neck, then the underside of her ear.

She speaks in moans, in gasps, in incoherent murmurs. In sounds that spur me on just as much as they turn me on.

In motions—the bow of her back, the press of her ass into me, the shifting of her feet as I tease her every sense and create every sensation.

My hands slide down her abdomen and dip beneath the waistband of her panties. They feather over her mound and then slide between the slickness awaiting me.

It’s my groan this time when I find her so fucking wet as she spreads her legs for me. “Please,” she moans. My dick throbs against her ass, the need to bury itself to the hilt in that heaven owning my thoughts.

Not yet.

Not fucking yet.

“Turn around.” My voice is gruff, edged with the need owning me.

And I leave my one hand right where it is, fingers buried in the heat between her thighs as she turns to face me. Chase looks up at me from beneath desire-heavy lids, her lips parted, her cheeks flush, her eyes glazed.

I lean in as if I’m going to kiss her but divert to her ear. “After I’m done with you, Chase, I assure you that kissing will never seem overrated again.”

My lips close over her nipples. First one and then the other. Her hands slide through my hair and tighten with each suck, each lick, each tease. We take a few steps back, my hands pushing down her panties, until the tops of her thighs are against the edge of the pool table.