But even as she gasped and writhed beneath his tongue, the growing need to touch him, to slide her hands over him, to feel him, grew until she was clawing at his soft shirt. She yanked it up over his head, forcing him to release her nipple, but that was okay because oh dear god it was the mudroom all over again. Except his skin was flushed and warm and his eyes were hot as they bored into her and his mouth was wet and he was looking at her with the kind of feral need she knew echoed in every beat of her heart.

Grabbing his shoulders, Suzanne pulled him close, her mouth landing on his, her breasts flattened to his chest as she ground against his erection. His hands slid to her ass to keep them locked in place, and she blasted him with a kiss that gave and took in equal measure as her hands explored his back, stroking up and down the length, feeling the play of muscle, the hardness of bone, the furrow and notches of his spine. Exploring the dip that was the small of his back, the rounded well of two dimples and the slope leading to the waistband of his track pants.

Suzanne didn’t think twice about slipping her hands into the waistband. Her palms were greedy for the feel of his flesh, and they moved on autopilot, enjoying the contraction of muscles as she palmed the smooth naked globes of his ass and gave them a squeeze.

God…Grady was built. This was an ass that out-assed anything she could have ever painted. Suzanne stroked her tongue in and out, mimicking the rhythm of her hands as they kneaded his glutes. The deep well of his groan was like a sexual sugar rush to a system already buzzing with high-octane arousal.

But, as good as it was, his ass was never going to be enough. She needed more than his ass in her hands; she needed the hardness between his legs in her hands—in other parts of her. Greedily, her fingers moved to his front, dipping into his boxer briefs, seeking out his erection, trembling with a need that bordered on feral, finding it all hard and heavy and solid, moaning in satisfaction as she curled her fingers around its girth.

A noise that didn’t sound quite human spilled from Grady’s lips as he tore his mouth away, pressing his forehead to hers, their heads bowing as she wrapped her fingers around his dick, a bead of liquid pearling at the slit in his flushed crown.

“Jesus…” He gasped, his breathing short, sharp pants. “We should not be doing this.”

Suzanne’s chest rose and fell in unison. “I know.” And she did know. He was absolutely right. They really needed to stop. This wasn’t real, and making it real wasn’t an option.