The Object of His Protection - Brenda Jackson [50]
To be quite honest, he liked everything about her. Especially the way she gave herself to him, so unselfishly and with a thrill that excited him and heightened his desire for her.
When she shifted in sleep, he tilted his head to the side and gazed at her breasts. The tips of her nipples still looked hard, as if they begged to be licked. Or better yet, sucked. He could imagine her baby doing that very thing.
No, he couldn’t imagine it because the baby would belong to some other man rather than him, and the thought that someone else’s child would grow in her stomach was unacceptable.
Easing closer to her, he placed a hand on her waist. He wasn’t used to feeling possessive, but around her you could call him Caveman Drey and it wouldn’t bother him any.
Why?
Why was he so affected by her in a way he had never been by any other woman? The sex was good. Off the chain. But good, off-the-chain sex had never made him feel this way toward a woman. Ever. But then he had to admit making love to Charlene wasn’t just good or off-the-chain. It was thrilling, sensational, mind-blowing. It was the kind that made you want to make love all night, all day, every chance you got. It was addictive.
But most importantly, it was theirs.
And he knew he would only feel this way with her, which suddenly made sweat bead on his forehead. He was getting hooked on her and for him that wasn’t a good thing. He wasn’t a man prone to having just one woman in his life. He didn’t intend to settle down, now or ever. He liked having bed partners, not long-term girlfriends or, heaven forbid, a wife. It just wasn’t in his makeup.
He would enjoy what they shared for now and then work her out of his system. When she left that would be it. He would bury himself in another case. And he would be fine. He would get over her. He had to.
Charlene woke with the sun shining in through the window. Her head lay nestled in the crook of Drey’s shoulder and he was turned slightly toward her with one leg thrown over her thigh and one hand resting between her legs, tangled in the curls covering her femininity.
She glanced up and found him asleep, which was fine. It gave her time to think about last night. He had shared himself with her, and later she had shared herself with him. She had no regrets. All she had was a happy mind and a satisfied body. She couldn’t help but smile at that.
“Aren’t we just full of cheer this morning?”
She glanced up and looked into Drey’s smiling face. He was awake. “Yes, we are,” she said, and then almost groaned out loud when his hand between her legs began moving.
“Like how that feels?” he asked in a husky voice. “Do you like for me to touch you this way?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“Umm, I like it too. I like it especially when you get wet, like you’re doing now. You’re getting real wet. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then ease over here. I want you to ride me this morning.”
She slid her body over his, found him hard and ready and looked down into his face. “Is this all you want me to do?”
“For starters.”
And then he lifted her up and eased her down on his shaft, connecting their bodies immediately when he slid into her. She began riding him and from the expressions that crossed his face, he was enjoying it. And so was she. She could get used to starting each of her mornings this way, but she knew that was only a dream. For now, though, she could make her dream a reality.
Drey glanced over at Charlene across the breakfast table. He had a busy day ahead of him. First he planned on meeting with Senator Cayman and Judge Hanlon, before paying a visit to Stewart Industries. There had to be a reason Harmon had been contacting his mother. Was there some specific information he had wanted her to find out for him but had gotten killed