The next standalone novel in Helena Hunting’s Shacking Up world is coming out next week, but I have a sexy little sneak peek for you from this laugh-out-loud romantic comedy.
“Touch me somewhere good,” I order.
Now, I’ve never been demanding when it comes to anything sexual. In fact, usually I’m on the shy side. Maybe it’s the champagne. Maybe it’s the fact that he flew me out here into one of the wonders of the world as a freaking surprise, so I’d like to make this a highly memorable event.
“Please, Griffin.” The politeness is a complete afterthought.
He squeezes my thighs. “And where would somewhere good be, Cosy?”
“Your hands are already in the general vicinity of good.” I spread my legs as wide as I can, to be helpful.
Griffin’s volatile, hot gaze dips down, and he slides his fingers closer to the hem of my shorts. I can see my panties through the gap, on both sides, so I assume his view is even better than mine.
His lips brush over mine. “These shorts are obscene.”
“Everyone wears them,” I argue, even though they’re ridiculously short.
“Everyone under twenty-five.”
“Awesome. That means I can wear them for another three years.”
He slips all four fingers under the hem until they come out the other side—through one leg hole to the other. There isn’t much fabric, considering how short they are.
Sadly, he doesn’t go under my panties as well. He curls his fingers, making a fist and his knuckles press against sensitive skin. “These could almost be underwear.”
“Denim underwear would be uncomfortable.” I’m all breathy and needy-sounding. “Let’s talk about my shorts later.” I try to pull his mouth to mine. He lets me get within an inch of his lips before he jerks his head back.
“I think we should talk about them now.” He shifts his grip on the crotch of my shorts—he’s still fisting them—putting pressure right where I want it.
“You know what I think?”
“What’s that?” His gaze keeps bouncing between my face and where he’s holding onto my shorts. It’s so hot. And the way he keeps subtly shifting his hand means he keeps rubbing over my orgasm button.
“I think you should make this a memorable experience for both of us by making me come on this picnic table instead of getting on me about how short my short shorts are.”