“Light blue,” he murmured as he slid his finger under the edge of her lacy panties. “Gorgeous, sexy, perfect sky blue.”

“Yes. You like?”

“So much I want to keep them,” he said as he returned his mouth to her skin.

Pleasure pulsed through her veins. She gripped the railing tighter as the sensations spread, starting deep in her belly, radiating to her fingertips, her toes, the ends of her hair, as he brushed those soft lips against her body. He kissed her with a kind of reverence, with a deep appreciation for her body. He kissed her as if she were the most sensual person he’d ever touched. As if she were made for passion, for pleasure, for this kind of bold desire that ran rampant through her cells.

Because everything he’d done so far had been a slice of heaven. A heaven for lovers of the flesh.

He ran his nose across her upper thigh, then pressed a kiss between her legs, his lips grazing the soaked panel of her panties. Useless thing. A completely useless piece of fabric, since the way he’d touched her had turned them hot and damp.

“Take them off,” he said roughly.

She obliged, sliding her panties down her legs, then lifting them over her ankles as she stepped out of them.

“Give them to me.”

She handed them to him, and he stuffed them into his pocket.

“You can have them back later. Or not,” he said with a glint in his blue eyes.

“That will probably be a not.”

He stood and gently placed his hand on her chin, turning her gaze back to the sky. “Watch the city,” he told her, as he pressed his chest against her back, his long, tall body aligned with hers.

Anticipation built between them, the tantalizing wonder of what would come next. Only he knew. She was placing her pleasure in his hands, and that’s exactly where she wanted it to be.

A soft hum whirred through the air. At first, she wasn’t sure what it was. Then she recognized the noise. The way it signaled a response in her body. How the sound tapped into her deepest core, a reminder of something she loved.

Assistance.

One hand gripped her hip, and the other slid down her belly, dipping between her legs as he tugged her closer. Her breath fled her chest. The thrill of not knowing ignited her more, and she felt a rush of heat between her legs. She wanted him to feel it too. To know what he was doing to her. She was After Hours Michelle with him, so she let go of her other self, allowing herself to fully be the sexy, alluring woman who appeared when Jack Sullivan was inches away. “Touch me,” she said.

She felt it. The first press against her throbbing clit. The slide through her wet folds. The pressure from something that wasn’t his finger. Something that had been made. That had been created to bring her bliss.