Ask Me Read Free Page B

fingers knew exactly where to caress and invade?
    Eagerly she returned the favors kiss for kiss and lick for lick. His control never faltered till she pushed him onto his back, crawled up his body, and asked, “What did you do with that package?”
    “Bedside table.” He could barely speak. “You sure you like bubble gum?”
    “Let me show you.”
    There in the half dark, with sleet skittering against the windows, she did. So strange, how natural it felt being with him—a virtual stranger—and how right when at last he plunged into her. The ensuing light show nearly blinded her and left him lying like a man slain.
    “Well,” she whispered, settling on top of him, “that sure beat spending Valentine’s Day alone.”
    He opened chocolate-brown eyes and gazed at her. “Oh, Miss Webb—I hope you don’t think we’re done.”
    ****
    So this, Leo thought hazily while staring up at Gerri Webb’s ceiling, was why men indulged in one-night stands. He’d heard other guys brag about it in bars or the locker room at the gym and had always been too cautious-natured to do anything more than contemplate the possibility.
    Only this didn’t feel like two strangers hooking up. Gerri Webb didn’t feel like a stranger at all. She felt like another part of him he’d never suspected he lacked.
    Whatever the case, that had been, hands down, the best sex he’d ever had—or imagined.
    He reached across the bedspread—they’d never made it beneath the sheets—and groped for her hand. Her fingers met his, meshed and slipped between them without effort.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Better than okay.”
    She rolled onto her side and cuddled up to his shoulder. He could barely see the color of her eyes in the dim room, but a rakish smile teased at her lips. Very talented lips, this woman possessed—and yes, she obviously favored bubble gum.
    Good thing he’d bought the big pack.
    He supposed this moment might prove awkward. What did one say to a woman after sharing the most intimate acts possible?
    His lips moved without conscious intention. “You’re beautiful, Gerri Webb.”
    Her eyes widened. “Me?”
    “So beautiful.” He ran his hand down the length of her hair, just for the sheer pleasure of it. “Any regrets?”
    “None.”
    “Good. I don’t want any regrets between us.”
    Her smile turned wicked. “I’m just wondering how far we can stretch things.”
    She trailed the fingers of her free hand down his chest, across his belly, and further downward. “You said we’re not done.”
    He smiled back at her. “Does that feel like we’re done?”
    “I have to say”—she planted little kisses on his mouth—“you’re quite something, for a button-down professor.”
    “We’re exploding some stereotypes here, aren’t we? I think I like this new genre.”
    “Me too. Listen to that.” She cocked her head, and her long, black hair slid over one shoulder to brush his chest. “The weather’s turned pretty nasty. Makes this feel even cozier, doesn’t it?”
    “I’m sure glad I’m not alone tonight.”
    He kissed her once more, and it didn’t feel like seduction but deep and genuine emotion. Danger, his brain screamed at him. Don’t go thinking you’re attached to her just because the sex is monumental. Casual sex means no strings.
    So she was smart, funny, and beautiful—that didn’t mean he’d ever see her again.
    He half sat up and fumbled on the bedside table.
    Gerri raised an eyebrow. “Already?”
    “I’m looking for my glasses,” he explained.
    “We left them in the other room. Why?”
    “I thought I noticed one or two interesting tattoos in passing. Ah, yes.” Abandoning the search for specs, he peered at her. “Let’s perform a proper count.”
    Her lips curved. “Now you do sound like a professor.”
    She had a sweet little butterfly at the top of her left breast, just over her heart, and a tribal band around one bicep. He caressed and kissed them both lingeringly, marveling at how