“What I want you to understand …” He swallowed. “I intend to take this to the next level because being in the friend zone isn’t enough for me. And I hope you’re okay with that. If not, we need to stop this before it goes any further.”
She stared at him, his words scoring their message on her heart. In the dim corners of her mind, that little voice told her what she was planning to do was wrong. Her stomach tightened, one coil at a time. “Um …”
Smoldering blue eyes held hers as he leaned back on fisted hands. “People think I don’t date because I’m shy or something like that.” He shook his head. “I’m not. The reason I don’t date is because I’m particular, which means I don’t chase indiscriminately. But make no mistake. It might take me a while, but I’m not easily deterred when I make up my mind I want something.”
Processing, processing, processing!
Her pulse rate ratcheted up, and blood pounded between her ears. Was the thudding preventing her from hearing him correctly? From thinking coherently? Her head nodded without asking her permission.
She masked her inner reeling self, the one whose engines were revving at peak RPMs, primed to burn rubber. As though her body were tethered to an unseen line, she toed off her shoes and moved toward him.
A sparkle in his eyes hypnotized, drawing her in. Like Svengali. Dracula. Without the bloodshot whites. She had no choice but to obey; she couldn’t summon any will but his. If he ordered her into the shower, that’s where she’d go—pasty skin, lumps, and bumps on full display.
With her thighs nearly bumping his knees, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her between his legs, eyes still locked on hers as he looked up at her. His other hand, big and warm, glided over her hip.
“So are you on board?” he murmured.
God, yes! The only answer she gave him was another nod. Apparently, she’d been stupefied speechless.
Breaking the connection, he lifted the hem of her thin sweater and focused on her exposed stomach. “Hold that,” he commanded softly. Wholly under his spell, she gripped the knit fabric in one hand. His hands slid slowly to her ass. Cupping her cheeks, he pulled her to within an inch of his lips. Her skin burned with anticipation, and when his open, moist mouth landed on it, she could’ve sworn it sizzled.
His kisses were warm, languid affairs that coaxed her skin into a goose-bumped landscape. Taking his time, he worked his way across her belly, first one way and then the other, pausing to lightly suck, lick. She dropped her free hand on his shoulder, out of his way, not wanting to interfere with his determined track. Behind her, long, strong fingers began kneading her flesh through her leggings. Her head dropped back, and a moan bubbled up in her chest.
He brought a hand back to her stomach, eliciting a gasp from her when his fingertips brushed her sensitive skin. Mouth adhered to her abdomen, still performing its magic, he pushed her bra up, exposing the swell below her breasts. Instinctively, she cinched her sweater tighter, lifting it higher, giving him access, inwardly begging him to work his way up. Wetness was pooling in her panties, and she vaguely wondered if he could smell her surging arousal.
Kissing the undersides of her breasts, he took care to touch his lips to every inch. As he passed over the tender flesh, he flicked his tongue out, licking a warm trail back and forth. Legs quivering, she fought to stay upright. She released the sweater, and it fell on his head. She scrabbled to regather the hem. He pushed it away and mumbled, “Off,” before withdrawing his lips and all that heat. Disappointment swelled inside her until he raised his head, his perusal skipping over her stomach and chest and landing on her eyes. A heady combination of affection and awe swam in a sea of blatant, blue-eyed lust, flipping her stomach upside down.
With a gentle tug on her sweater, he repeated his demand. “Off. Now.”
She complied, jerking the top over her head. His gaze fixed on her breasts. She felt her taut nipples poking the sheer lace of her bra cups. Whatever had possessed her to wear her bestunderwear today didn’t matter at the moment, but she was grateful she had. With his finger pads, he traced the bare contours of her breasts below the bra’s underwire. A flurry of shivers shimmied up her spine, shooting along her arms, down her legs. His thumbs strummed her nipples while he watched, seemingly entranced. Then his mouth latched on, his tongue and lips assaulting her nipple through the lace while his thumb circled the other one. Unable to stop herself, she wrapped her hands around his head, tunneling her fingers in his strands. The smell of his hair, him, teased her nose, and she pulled in his scent, looking on in a daze while his mouth and hands moved from one breast to the other. Her breathing ragged and shallow, her mind spun out into the Kuiper Belt, where it tumbled end over end.
Her hips began writhing, trying to find purchase against him. Without breaking contact, he slung an arm between her legs, splaying his fingers across her ass and the small of her back. She ground herself with shameless abandon against the makeshift saddle formed by his rock-hard forearm and bicep. The gauzy fabric of her bra became saturated as he moved back and forth, back and forth. Either nipple his mouth abandoned chilled, and she moaned an incoherent plea for its return.
When he stopped and withdrew his arm, she pulled back and met his smoky gaze. His hands snaked up her back, and he released her bra clasp, peeling the straps slowly down her arms, his fingers grazing her as they went. The promise of what was to come ignited her like a backdrafting fire. She ached
