five years-spiraling down the drain.
“Oh, God, that feels good,” she murmured. “Where have you been?”
He whispered in her ear. “Waiting. For you.”
An erotic shiver slithered through her body. Dillon rinsed her hair, then picked up the soap and facecloth. His strong, talented fingers massaged her body, leaving her feeling limp, languid, like a jellyfish.
“I’m not going to be able to move,” she said on a sigh, kissing his wet shoulder. She moved her mouth to his neck, the taste of his skin a new and exciting flavor.
She took the soap from him, rubbed the bar against his body. Building up a lather that she took across his chest, his shoulders, his back. Down his sides, to his narrow waist and flat stomach. Dillon may not have been in an occupation that required staying in shape, but he had no problems in the body department. His abdomen had a defined six-pack, and his thighs were solid muscle. She wanted to touch him for hours.
Dillon slowly turned her around so he could rub her shoulders. She put her hands on the tile wall as his talented hands hit still-tight muscles. He kissed her neck softly, his tongue leaving a trail of desire in its wake.
“Dillon,” she breathed.
He kissed her earlobe. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered, his voice low and sexy.
“Please.”
He shut off the water, reached out, and pulled in a large, thick white towel. He wrapped her body, then picked her up and carried her from the steamy hot bathroom to the startlingly cool bedroom.
Goose pimples rose on her skin. “I shouldn’t have opened the balcony door,” she said.
Dillon sat her on the bed, crossed the room, and closed the door. Then he returned, pulled down the comforter, removed her towel, and put her between the sheets. He climbed in after her, pulled the comforter over them. “Warm?”
“Getting there.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. He was staring at her with an intensity she hadn’t seen in him before. Something shifted inside her, from casual lust to serious desire.
Dillon wasn’t a man to have one-night stands. Dillon was the type to have serious, discreet, and long-term relationships. Kate couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t married. He was prime. Handsome, sexy, smart, and compassionate.
“What are you thinking?” He stared at her.
“Why you’re not married.”
“Who says I’m not?”
She almost hit him, then saw a smile curve around his lips.
“That was mean,” she said, trying not to smile back.
“I’m not married, never been married.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been pretty focused on my practice.”
She touched his face, ran her hand through his hair, then pulled him to her lips. Kissed him lightly. Over and over.
The light kisses turned hot, their breath entwined, their hands moving to touch everywhere. Exploring as only new lovers can. Cautious, wanting to please, wanting to bring out the best in each other, and in themselves.
Dillon sank into Kate. He wasn’t a man who gave in to his passions and wants. He thought things out, never acted without looking at every contingency. But with Kate, he let his needs take over, an intense and heady desire for her. A feeling that if he let her go, she would vanish and his world would be a darker place.
Her limbs wrapped around him, her heart beating rapidly beneath his chest. Kate had a fierce passion and focus in everything she did, and now it was all directed at him. He kissed her over and over, not able to bring her close enough to satisfy the growing need inside him.
Her hands seemed to be everywhere, on his back, his waist, his ass. Her touch electrified him. He wanted nothing more than to make love to her. Slowly. Methodically.
In bed, Dillon had always been a gentleman. He painstakingly made sure that the woman with him enjoyed herself. He always led the dance, directed the movements.
He tried to slow the pace, to make sure Kate was relaxed and comfortable and ready for him.
Kate would have none of that. Every time he slowed down, she sped up. His mind was a whirlwind; his body wanted her now.
She kissed him repeatedly as her hands roamed, pushing him away.
“What’s wrong?” he said, surprised.
She grinned. “Nothing’s wrong.” She pushed off the comforter, which had become tangled in their legs. Then she climbed on top of him, straddled him. “If you don’t make love to me right now, this very minute, I am going to burst.”
He swallowed, felt her hands clasp his erection, watched as Kate slowly slid down.
He took her hands into his, watched the pleasure spread over her expressive face. Her short, layered blond hair hung in her face, damp from their shower, making her look natural and even sexier.
“Dillon,” she sighed heavily.
It took all his willpower to let her direct their love-making. He wanted to go slow and soft, to show her affection. She drove him forward, not giving him time to rest. His release was imminent.
“Kate,” he said.
She opened her eyes, now bright with passion, and stared at him. “What?”
He rolled her onto her back and pulled out. She blinked, confused. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Dillon swallowed, not sure what was going on between them, but wanting to make sure Kate knew this wasn’t a game to him.
“This isn’t about the finish line,” he said, his voice thick with desire and frustration.
A startled look crossed her face. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to show her what love could be. What it could be between them.
He kissed her swollen lips. “Let me show you what making love can be.”
Kate welcomed his embrace. His kisses told her he wanted her. She relaxed under his attention. She’d been so close to release when he pulled back. Maybe that was it. Prolonging this night, the limited time they had together. She pushed aside the thoughts of the morning, when they would part. She might never see him again. She told herself that was okay.
She was lying. But they had the here and now. She wasn’t going to waste it.
Dillon’s mouth found her breast and she moaned. His tongue played with her nipple, bringing it to full attention. Then he moved to the other side. Her hands grabbed at the bedsheets, a swirling sensation building again inside her. His hands were warm; everywhere his fingers touched made her hot. Light and purposeful, his mouth went from her breasts to her navel, back up again.
“Dillon, I want you.”
“I want you, too, Kate.” But he didn’t make any move to speed things up.
“Fast is good.”
“Sometimes,” he murmured into the space between her breasts. He looked up at her, his chin resting on her chest. “Slow is good, too.”
“I can’t wait.”
He smiled seductively. “You mean, you don’t want to wait.”
“That, too.”
His eyes blazed. “I’m savoring you, Kate. Won’t you allow me that?”
“I’m already undone.”
“That’s an old-fashioned way of saying you’re hot and bothered,” Dillon teased.
“I don’t believe you.” She smiled at him, sat up in the bed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Yes. I’m hot and bothered. I want you to make love to me. Now.”
“Demanding, too.” He kissed her, his own breath labored. So he was as turned on as she was. “I
He kissed her again. “Kissing you.” His tongue circled her lips, went down to her neck. “Tasting you.” He lightly
