Big Girls Do It Better by Jasinda Wilder

Author:Jasinda Wilder
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-01T21:00:00+00:00

* * *

I stood on the sidewalk in front of Chase's house. It was a modest one-story ranch-style home, a square of grass in front, a detached garage, cracked driveway and a tasteful lamppost in front. The front porch light was on, despite the fact that it was past three in the morning.

I forced my feet to leave the sidewalk and take the steps up to the front door. My finger hesitated on the doorbell, and then, with closed eyes and a hammering heart, I pushed it.

Chase was at the door within seconds, still in his leather pants but without his shirt.

Holy hell. I'd felt the muscles of his stomach, had seen his biceps, but nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me through the storm door. Pure male perfection, cut muscles defined with artistic clarity, dusky skin taut and hairless, inked across the pectorals and biceps with stunning full-color red dragon wrapping entirely around his torso, writhing with every breath, every shifting of his muscles.

I froze, unable to tear my eyes away. Chase opened the door, took me by the hand, and pulled me in. He'd meant for me to move past him, but I landed pressed against his hot skin and bulky muscles, hands slipping and sliding across his broad shoulders and ridged back, around to his sides and then his chest.

"Why am I here?" I breathed.

Chase grinned down at me. "Can't you guess?" He pulled me into the house, closing the front door with his foot.

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm a terrible guesser." I pressed my lips to his shoulder blade, and then his neck. "Are we here for pretzels? I am a little drunk."

"You don't seem drunk," Chase said. His hands were resting on my hips, letting me kiss his skin.

"Not drunk, then. Tipsy. Enough to wonder if this is real."

"It's real." He dragged his fingers through my hair, wrapping his fist into it near the nape of my neck.

He tilted my head backward so I was looking up at him, lips parted in anticipation of his kiss.

"I must be dreaming," I said.

He kissed me, and it wasn't quite the kiss he'd given me in the parking lot a few hours ago, but it was close.

"Your lips don't feel like a dream." He ran his strong hands across my mini-skirted backside. "Your ass doesn't feel like a dream. It feels real enough to me."

"Are you sure? There's an awful lot of fabric in the way," I said.

"True. We should fix that." Chase's fingers explored the skirt until he found the zipper, tugged it down, slipped his hands between the skirt and my skin to push it down.

His hands on my bare skin felt like tongues of fire along my flesh. I couldn't help a moan from escaping my lips. Chase buried his nose against my neck at the sound, digging his fingers into the flesh of my ass. I was wearing a thong, a bit of blue fabric across my vag with a few strings around my hips and down my asscrack.

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