He released her lips and brushed the hair over her temple. She could feel his warm breath against her ear. “I was going to invite you to share my room. Does this mean yes?”
Butterflies danced inside her stomach. She could still back out. A kiss wasn’t a commitment to all-out sex.
Ah, damn, Kara, don’t second-guess everything.
Why shouldn’t she allow herself to experience what could only be a magnificent adventure? Sure, she’d never had a one-night stand before, but hadn’t she been the one saying that people could enjoy sex without guilt? So why couldn’t she enjoy a sexual adventure with a man she’d just met? They’d talked, gotten to know one another. This mutual attraction between them was downright sizzling.
He kissed her again, his lips moving on hers in a sinfully sexy caress.
“What do you say, Kara?”
She simply nodded, unable to find her voice.
He smiled, then took her elbow and led her into the cold, snowy night. Somehow, he flagged down a cab within minutes and they were on their way to the Angel’s Inn.
Kara stepped into the room as J. M. held the door for her. Her eyes widened at the large, luxurious suite.
“Pretty fancy,” she said.
He followed her into the room and closed the door. She kicked off her boots, then slid her coat from her shoulders. He took it and hung it in the closet.
“I thought you might prefer to have a little space.” He hung his own coat beside hers.
She stepped farther into the large room, glancing around at the soft beige couch and chair across from a cherry cabinet that probably held a TV inside. Plants and artwork gave the sitting area a homey feel. There was a doorway straight ahead that probably led to the bedroom.
She smiled. “You mean, I can sleep on the couch if I like?”
He carried their cases across the room and set them down by the bedroom door.
“If you don’t want to share the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She tilted her head. “Really?”
He stepped toward her and anticipation fluttered through her. His brown eyes darkened as he stroked his hand over her cheek. Heat simmered through her and her heart thundered in her chest. He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything just because you agreed to stay the night.” He stroked her cheek. “As for protection, I’ve been tested recently, so there are no worries about that, but I can get some condoms, if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been tested, too.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips . . . full and sensuous. Her whole body tingled, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. Her lips parted as she tilted her head and pressed her lips to his.
Warm. And firm.
The moment their lips met, she could sense his control . . . as if he had to stop himself from dragging her against him and ravaging her. His mouth moved on hers with a sweet tenderness. His tongue trailed along the seam of her lips, then pressed inside. She met him, gliding her tongue over his, then dove into the heat of his mouth. He tasted minty male . . . and very sexy.
Their lips parted and she wrapped her arms around his neck and stroked her cheek against his raspy one.
“I want to be here. With you,” she murmured against his ear.
He captured her lips again, pulling her tight to his body, crushing her breasts against his solid muscular chest. Her nipples hardened and heat simmered through her entire body.
Oh, God, she wanted him.
A knock sounded at the door. She stiffened and took a quick step back. Who knew they were here?
“When I checked in, I asked them to have room service send up some wine,” he explained. “I thought you might like that.”
She smiled and nodded. He crossed the room and opened the door. The bellman entered the room and placed a tray holding a bottle of wine and two tall, stemmed glasses on the round cherry dining table, which was big enough for two, beside the sitting area.
“Open it now, sir?” he asked.
“Please.”
The uniformed man pulled out a small device from his pocket and flipped up a short knife to cut away the metal foil covering the cork, then flipped up a corkscrew, which he pushed into the cork, then drew it from the tall black bottle.
“That’s fine, thank you.” J. M. signed the bill, adding a generous tip, then the man left the room. J. M. returned to the bottle, filled the two glasses, then handed her one.
She took a sip. She didn’t drink wine a lot, but she appreciated the dry yet slightly fruity flavor.
She took another sip, wondering how these things usually went. Should she just rip off her clothes and jump into his arms? Or wait for him to make the first move?
She sipped again and glanced at him. He smiled.
“You don’t have to be ner vous. We’ll go at whatever pace suits you.”
Damn, but the man seemed to know her thoughts.
The problem was, she wanted to rip off her clothes and feel his naked flesh against hers . . . right now . . . but she didn’t want him to think her too anxious. Oh, God, that had to be a holdover from her straitlaced mother. What was wrong with letting a man know she found him attractive and wanted to have sex with him?
Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his full lips, then drifted downward, over his broad, muscular chest, to his narrow waist. Lower to his fitted black jeans, her gaze gliding
