Watch Over Me (Danvers #7)

Dominic checked the peephole, then pulled back in surprise. This was a new one. He could make out the crown of someone’s head and that was about it. He stood there for a few moments, hoping that the person would just move on. When he heard nothing but silence, he came to the resigned conclusion that he was either going to have to leave them there all night or open the door and encourage them to move on.

Swinging the door open suddenly might not have been the best idea, Dominic concluded, when a soft body landed against his. He heard a feminine giggle, then a “whoops!” He froze in place when hands started roaming his chest and then his torso. “Mmmm, you are sooo hard. . . . I knew you would be.”

What the hell? Just as he registered that what he thought was brown hair through the peephole was actually dark red, his interloper looked up, and he gasped in shock. “Gwen?”

“Dominic,” she purred back, blinking at him with wide eyes like an owl. Her hands continued to roam and he didn’t know whether to be thrilled or sorry that he was wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. Her hands on his bare skin were having a direct effect on his cock and the silky material wasn’t doing much to contain it. On the other hand . . . it felt good . . . no, amazing.

Maybe he was asleep and this was a dream. There was no way Gwen Day, the woman he’d wanted from the first moment he saw her, was here now, touching him . . . damn near everywhere. “Er . . . Gwen . . . babe, did you need something?” He almost groaned aloud when her hand dropped to cover the bulge in his shorts.

“You could say that,” she moaned as she pushed him back a few steps before shutting the door behind her. Just when he thought this encounter couldn’t get much weirder—or hotter—she leaned down, grabbed the hem of the slinky black dress she was wearing and pulled it over her head in a move that would make a stripper proud. Then she stood before him in nothing but a black lace bra, tiny matching panties, and black strappy sandals. He was completely and totally screwed.

Still trying to be the voice of reason for some crazy reason, Dominic held out a calming hand, saying, “Babe, what’re we doing here? I mean . . . God, you’re gorgeous!” All right, maybe that last line had slipped out before he could stop himself, but holy hell, how was he supposed to stay calm when Gwen was standing in front of him, practically naked, with a come-hither look in her eyes that was making him pant like a dog in heat?

She began to prowl forward and he walked uncertainly backward—which he figured out was a big mistake when he tripped over his coffee table and landed in a heap on the sofa. “Oh goody,” she rubbed her hands together as she stopped a few inches from where he had landed. “It looks like we’re both on the same page.” Then . . . she dropped down to straddle his waist, and it was all over for him. When she grinned before pulling a strip of condoms out of her bra, he almost professed his love on the spot. Who was this woman? She certainly looked like his beautiful neighbor, but that was where the similarities ended.

He’d caught her checking him out on more than one occasion, and yes, in his fantasies, he had wanted to believe that she desired him as he did her. But she’d never given him any outward reason to believe that was true. He had certainly never imagined her showing up on his doorstep like a wet dream. So he forced himself to ask one last time, “Are you sure about this?” In answer, she ground herself against him before licking his neck. Well . . . that meant yes in his book.

He put his hands on what he had come to think of as the Holy Grail . . . her ass. It was firm, round, and drove him to distraction. Dominic had never been one to desire a skinny woman. He loved soft, lush curves and to him, Gwen had the perfect body. His only problem was deciding where he wanted to lavish his attention first. “I need you inside of me,” Gwen murmured as she bit his ear. As if to prove that point, she plastered her body against his chest, freeing his hips, before saying urgently, “Shorts off, condom on.”

Dominic had always been something of an alpha male so this role change was not only different for him, but it was also surprisingly sexy as hell. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncoordinated as he did his best to push his shorts down and then fumble to put the condom on his throbbing erection without causing it to blow early. At this point, he was hanging on to his composure by a mere thread.

After what was probably seconds but felt like hours, he was sheathed and past ready to feel her around him. “All right, baby, let me take care of you.”

“Yes . . . God, yes,” she breathed throatily. “I need to take my panties . . .” Refusing to let her up, he ripped one side of her flimsy excuse for panties and then the other. She lifted her hips slightly and he pulled the fabric free, sending it sailing somewhere nearby. He ran a finger through her cleft, finding it wet and swollen. “Dom . . . I’m ready, now please!”