Ready and Willing Read Online Free PDF Page A

baby or for my own selfish pleasure, I’m not sure. The feeling is nice but confusing, and I want a little reality check to help me understand where Noah’s coming from.

    “You’re only doing stuff you want to, right?” I ask as our mouths separate. “That was nice, but don’t feel like you have to do all the romantic stuff. If you don’t want to,” I reiterate, babbling.

    “Does it bother you?”

    “No, it was sexy.”

    “Okay. As long as you don’t mind, I’d like to do things the cheesy traditional way,” Noah says. “The illusion makes me feel less…sordid about the whole thing.”

    “Gentleman’s choice.” I hold my glass up, and he follows suit. We clink them together, then take a drink just as the oven timer buzzes.

    In a few minutes we sit down with heaping bowls of ziti and start the movie. Once my wine kicks in and I’ve set my bowl aside, I scoot over a couple inches and rest my knee on Noah’s thigh. He smiles, looking equal parts guilty and appreciative.

    After another glass and another hour, his hand is on my leg, rubbing idly. I know neither of us is really watching the movie. I study his profile, the handsome details of his face lit by the TV in the relative dark. My body’s been priming for him, growing warm and restless and curious in tiny ways he can’t see but maybe he can sense. I want to feel his stubble when he kisses me deeply. I want to explore the parts of him I diplomatically averted my eyes from when his pants were around his ankles when he first arrived. I want to know what he sounds like and what sorts of things he might say. I bet he moans more than he talks during sex, and I bet he goes slow, right up until the very end… I feel like I know this man already, and I want all my suspicions about him confirmed.

    He finishes his second glass and sets it on the coffee table. I let him do the same with mine, and he turns to face me. My nerves reach a low simmer, and my stomach’s gurgly —not the way it was with Rob, not from adrenaline and apprehension. More like first-date jitters. Noah’s warm, strong hands take my face, and our mouths reconnect.

    He’s bolder than I expected. His tongue slips between my lips after only a few seconds’ hesitation. The penetration is divine and dirty and sweet all at once. He kisses deep, wet sweeps of his tongue against mine, firm fingertips on my skin. His palms slide to my shoulders, and I can’t wait. I swing a leg over his and straddle him. My knees sink between the cushions, so I end up pushed hard against him, my skirt pooled in our collective lap, more forward than I’d meant to be. Noah’s only protest is a deep, accidental-sounding moan and a thrust of his hips. His erection grinds against my inner thigh, spreading heat up and down my legs and making my pussy clench.

    I touch his arms though his soft sweater. They’re strong. I wasn’t expecting that. Curious, I tug at his hem, and he breaks away for a moment to peel his top off for me. Beneath he’s got on a white button-up shirt, and I squeeze his biceps through the cotton as his mouth captures mine again. Damn. I squeeze him tighter, fascinated to discover his body is hard, breaking the promises made by his easy smile and his kind eyes, his slow, no-pressure approach.

    I slide my lips to his neck, tasting the faint chemical flavor of his aftershave, running my tongue up his jugular vein. His hips pump softly as I touch his firm chest, trace his collarbone through his shirt. His mouth is just above my ear when he moans. The sound and the heat of his breath splash gasoline all over my flames, flash a hundred dirty ideas through my mind, thoughts of Noah’s weight on me, the look on his face when he comes. His hands take my thighs, guiding me to rub my pussy over his cock where it strains against his pants. I want him now now now .

    “You feel so hard,” I murmur.

    “I am.” He pushes my hips away enough to slide a hand between us. His touch is a shock,