Hero: Hamilton “Hammer” Dean. Tattoo Artist. Shaved Head. Law school dropout. Rides a motorcycle. Likes to call the heroine, Sparky.

Heroine: Quinn “Sparky” LaBrea. Waitress. Has a jerk of an ex-boyfriend. Has jerk’s name tattooed on her thigh. Meets Hammer to have it covered up. She gets more than a tattoo from him.

Straddling his legs, she lowered herself onto his lap. He didn’t stop his groan when the heat of her pussy seeped through his jeans, bathing his cock in her warmth. He grasped her soft ass, going beneath the short jersey skirt and palming her lace-covered roundness.

The movements of her mouth became more frantic on his, and her pelvis twisted with need. Small moans of desire escaped her, hardening him further. Man, he’d not felt so desperate since he was a teenager fooling around in the backseat of a car for the first time. Her hands moved down, clutching at his shoulders, his biceps, down his chest, his abs, then down between them to press against his cock.

He tore his mouth from hers. “Baby, you’re killing me.”

“You don’t feel dead to me.” The rasp of a zipper sounded, a button released and then her hands delved into his jeans and stroked his cock through his black boxers.

“Damn,” Hammer said, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling. She cupped his balls then rubbed at his shaft, her thumb flicking lightly over the tip.

“Hammer,” she whispered, staring at his face as her hands moved on him. “I want you.”

“Good. I want you too,” he said seriously, holding her ass for dear life.

She continued stroking him and his cock twitched with want. At his groan, she grinned and her nimble fingers parted the flap of his boxers. Before he could process what she was doing, her fingers had curled around his shaft, moving up and down while squeezing gently. She thumbed the slit at the crown of the purple head, gathering and spreading the drop of moisture that sprang out at her touch.

“I guess I’m not the only one who needs something, am I?” she nearly purred.

He watched as she stood without releasing her grip. When she motioned, he lifted his hips and allowed her to remove his jeans and boxers. She tossed them aside without watching to see where they’d land. Dropping to her knees between his spread legs, she looked up at him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said seriously. “There’s something I’d like to do.”

“Whatever you want, Sparky. I’m yours for the evening.” It was, quite possibly, the best answer he’d given to anyone ever.

Indelibly Intimate by Regina Cole. I’ll be posting a review this week. I’m giving the overall book a C+ due to a few storyline issues, but I liked it. Very hot smexin’.

Goodreads l Kindle l Nook l Ellora’s Cave