though she thrust her hips impatiently, he held them both still. “Look at you,” he whispered. “You take my breath away, Becca.”
Gazes locked, she lifted slightly, driving him more deeply inside her. He could see her, all of her; her warm spirit, her compassion, her need for him.
It was the last that had his heart overflowing. Hunger and passion and so much more roared through his veins. He was deep inside her, in her body, her heart. She was most certainly in his. It was almost too much, this joining of the body and soul, so much pleasure and sensation, he could hardly take it.
Planting his forearms on either side of her head, cupping her face, he kissed her, lost himself in her taste, in the feel of her. “I love you,” he said again, in a voice so thick and raspy he hardly recognized it. And he moved within her.
With a small cry, she arched back. He thrust again, and again. Claiming. Staking. Promising. In the most intense moments of his life, they moved together, mind and body. When she came, her body rippling with blinding pleasure, it triggered his own earth-shattering release.
14
KENT WAS HUMMING when he walked into the lab the next morning. He was also grinning like an idiot, just because he could see Becca’s car in the parking lot.
Yeah, he was gone.
And it felt damn good.
She’d slept with him all night, not that there’d been much sleeping involved. Which brought a dreamy smile to his lips, and he walked past Cookie with a wave, thinking he’d been a fool to put off combining this friendship with this new, wildly satisfying element.
“Hold it,” Cookie said, snapping her gum, narrowing her eyebrows.
He stopped at her desk. “Yes?”
“Are you…singing?”
“Nope. Humming.”
“You got lucky last night,” she guessed.
“Depends on what you call lucky,” he called, moving down the hallway to the tune of her surprised laughter.
Though he didn’t really need the jolt of caffeine-who would, after having made love with the most incredible woman all night-he grabbed a cup.
The only thing that could hurt his mood was if he dwelled on the fact that Becca hadn’t told him she loved him. But he refused to agonize over that. Yet.
DRAWING A DEEP BREATH, Becca entered the lab. Memories of last night danced in her head, of Kent telling her with words, with kisses, with his incredible body, just how much she meant to him.
It had been magical, perfect. Well, nearly, because she had made one crucial mistake.
She’d neglected to tell him just how much he meant to her in return. It was something she intended to fix, today, right this minute if possible, despite the butterflies wreaking havoc in her belly.
Then Kent was standing at her work station, staring at her in that heated way he had, the one that told her he was remembering last night, and thinking of many nights yet to come, and those butterflies morphed into stomach-liner-eating dragons.
He watched her approach and a slight frown marred his brow.
She knew why. She’d dressed carefully for this morning. Jeans, backward baseball hat, glasses, the white lab coat with at least six pencils, the works.
The old Becca.
Kent wore a white lab coat, too, but his showed amazing shoulders, the chest that only hours before, she’d covered with kisses.
She stopped a few feet away, vividly aware of everyone’s direct interest, as they pretended to work while unabashedly eavesdropping. “Good morning,” she said, her voice unintentionally husky.
“Thanks to you, it’s a great morning.”
Around them, everyone shifted closer, trying to capture each and every word, while still pretending to work.
“Nice jeans,” he said. “What’s the occasion?”
She shrugged nonchalantly while her heart raced. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure I had your attention.”
“Oh, but you most definitely have my attention,” he assured her, his own voice warm and thick. “You always have.”
Acutely aware of everyone’s undivided attention-they’d given up even the pretense of being busy-she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you sure?”
“You can doubt it? After what we shared, especially last night?”
Heat flooded her cheeks, but she’d started this, she would finish. “I was just wondering, you know, because before the makeover, you never looked at me in that way that makes…my knees buckle.”
“I make your knees weak?”
She nearly smiled, but there were those dragons working at her stomach. “Oh yeah, you make everything weak. But-”
“But it comes down to the makeover,” he finished for her. “And why we didn’t go out before that. Right?” He sighed and shook his head. “The truth is, I had it in my head I couldn’t have both your friendship and your love. And they were both so important because I’d never had both before.”
“Of course you can have both.”
“Can I?” he asked softly. “I wanted you before, Becca, you can believe it. But the most important part of our relationship had nothing to do with sex.”
Someone snickered. Kent dropped his arms to his side and glared at his staff, all of whom immediately ducked their heads and looked busy.
He turned back to Becca, who bit her lip.
“I liked the sex part,” she admitted in a whisper.
He let out an agreeing laugh. “Me, too.” Purposely, he removed her glasses, put his big warm hands on her arms and shook lightly. “And for someone who wanted the words, you’ve been awfully miserly with your own.”
Within her, courage and hope blossomed painfully. “I just didn’t think I had a chance.”
“Take one now,” he suggested, dropping his hands from her to cross his arms over his chest.
Biting her lip, she took that last step between them and blinked him into focus, not easy without her glasses. She touched him and could tell by the warmth and affection that filled his eyes that he truly felt all he’d told her.
He loved her, no matter what.
It was empowering. And awe inspiring.
To be loved for herself! Not for her brains, not for her looks, but for herself. To be loved by a man she loved back, with all her heart. It was the thrill of a lifetime. No, it was the adventure of a lifetime, and all she needed. “Okay.” She drew in a deep breath. “Here’s me, taking a chance.” She swallowed, licked her lips. “
“Then know it.”
“Well, I think I would if…”
He looked at her, for the first time allowing his hope to show through. “If…?”
“If we were married.” She smiled, a bit wobbly, but then again, how often did she ask a man to be hers
