Her Last First Date. Сьюзен Мэллери
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and when his tongue touched hers, he felt a jolt clear down to his groin. The wanting grew until it was an inescapable pulsing. He was hard and ready. He wanted her. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her body. He wanted to make her writhe and scream and come, then he wanted to start at the beginning and do it again.
Crissy drew back slightly and stared at him. Passion darkened her eyes. “Wow,” she whispered. “That was some kiss.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“‘Liked’ doesn’t come close.” She moved her hands down his arms, then dropped them to her sides. “I want to blame the wine, but I haven’t had more than a sip.”
“Me, either.”
“So it’s emotional intensity and chemistry?”
He didn’t know what it was. The only thing he was clear on was that his body had come back to life and it felt damn good to be hard.
“It just is,” he told her.
“Very profound for a guy who doesn’t do touchy feely,” she told him.
“I have untapped depths.”
“I can tell.”
He knew he should leave. She’d been through a lot today and probably needed some time to process everything.
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You going to be okay?”
“Sure. I’m a little shell-shocked, but I’ll recover.”
“You’ll get used to being around Brandon,” he said.
“I was actually talking about you.”
That made him smile. “Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. You had me close to screaming ‘take me now, big guy.” ’
She had his full attention. “How close?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
But he wanted to know. He wanted her to tell him that he wasn’t the only one interested in the erotic next step.
She pressed her hand to his chest. “You are very unexpected, Josh Daniels. You’re a good man and an amazing kisser. Seriously you should have a plaque or something.”
He covered her hand with his, then drew her fingers up so that he could kiss them. He pressed his lips to the center of her palm and watched as her eyes dilated.
“I should go,” he murmured against her flesh.
“Yes, you should.”
She didn’t sound exactly convinced.
“Or I could stay.” He hadn’t planned to say that, but as soon as he did, he knew that’s what he wanted. To be with her. Alive for a single night.
She drew in a breath. “Staying would work, too.”
It was all the invitation he needed. He drew her against him and pressed his lips to hers. She melted against him, rubbing her belly against his hardness. The friction felt good—right. He wanted more. He wanted to bury himself inside of her and explode, but that was for later. Right now he had a plan.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. She brushed against him, matching his intensity, circling him, driving him to the edge. He explored her back, then slipped his hands over the curve of her butt. He squeezed and she arched against him.
The movements of the age-old dance returned to him. Slowly he drew up the hem of her sweater, then pulled the garment over her head and tossed it on the coffee table. But instead of going right for her breasts—which was really what he wanted to do—he pressed his mouth against her now bare left wrist.
Using his tongue, his lips and his teeth, he teased, kissed and nibbled his way to the inside of her elbow. There he circled the sensitive spot until she gave a half-giggle, half-moan that made him smile. He repeated the action on her other arm.
When her breathing came in pants he asked, “Which way to the bedroom?”
She took his hand in hers and pulled him down a short hall and into the first door on the right. She touched a switch on the wall. A small lamp on a dressing table came on, illuminating the feminine space.
The room was done in various shades of pink. Light pink on the walls, a deep rose on the bed. It was the most girly space he’d ever seen and a contrast to Crissy’s take-charge personality. He liked seeing this side of her.
“Are you afraid?” she asked as she turned to him. “There are pink ruffles and lots of lace.”
“I can handle it.”
She pulled his shirt out of his jeans and began unbuttoning it. “Yes, but can you handle me?”
“Let’s find out.”
He pushed her hands away, took her in his arms and kissed her. Now when he explored her back, he felt heated bare skin. Even though he skimmed across her bra strap, he ignored it for now. There would be plenty of time for that later.
He urged her backward until she reached the bed. When she was seated, he crouched in front of her and unzipped her boots.
“I can’t believe you played football in these,” he said as he tugged off the high-heeled footwear. “You could have broken a leg. Or worse.”
She smiled. “You’re such a guy. Women can do anything in heels. It’s all a matter of practice and balance.”
He took off her socks next and had to hold in a groan when he saw her painted toenails and a gold toe ring. How many more surprises were there going to be?
The throbbing in his groin increased every time he touched her. As he had her stand so he could unfasten her jeans, his arousal made a strong case for just going for it. He ignored the message and the way she looked in tiny bikini panties, tossed the jeans onto a chair, then drew her onto the bed.
He kicked off his athletic shoes before joining her. Then he stretched out next to her and stared into her eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told her.
“The things men say to get lucky.” She grinned. “But I choose to believe you.”
“You should.”
She was lovely. He let his gaze drift down her body. Her breasts were full and pale, threatening to spill out of her lacy bra. He could see toned muscle under smooth skin. There was a small gold hoop in her belly button that made his mouth go dry. Her legs were long and he had a sudden visceral image of himself between them.
He returned his attention to her face, then bent down and kissed her. At the same time he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. She put a hand on his chest.
“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re not naked. Naked is required.”
“I have some important things I need to do.”
“While I like the sound of that, fair is fair. You see mine, I see yours.”
He chuckled. “I like how you think.”
He stood up and took care of his clothes in a matter of seconds. When he moved next to her, she stroked his chest.
“Nice,” she whispered.
He kissed her and again moved his hand behind her back to her bra. This time she turned slightly to help him. When the hooks were free, she tossed the bra off to the side.
Her breasts were perfect. Full and pretty, with tight coral-colored nipples. He knelt between her legs and bent over so he could cup her breasts in his hands. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her silky skin, then he brushed his thumbs against the tight tips.
His body did its damnedest to remind him that paradise was only a few inches away. Pressure in his groin increased, but he ignored it. As much