She smelled like strawberry shampoo and sunshine. Like goodness. Like something I wanted to soak in . . . or taste. I found the nape of her neck with my lips and stroked my tongue over the delicate bump of her spine. She breathed the softest, sexiest moan, which was even sexier because it was my name.
My dream b***r was Godzilla. King Kong. Attila the Hun leading his army of savages to plunder the riches of foreign lands. I pressed it against her, curling my hand around her hip to draw her close. She made an appealing sound, a kitten’s soft mew, which drew a growl from deep inside my chest.
I opened my mouth over the curve between her shoulder and neck. She tilted her head back, giving me better access to her throat. I trailed my lips up satin skin, gently bit down, felt her shiver. She
