Sean. Donna Kauffman
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What would his touch feel like? she wondered as her pulse began to thrum inside her body.
She sucked in a small gasp as he almost brushed her cheek…then slid off her sunglasses instead. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed…or close to climaxing.
“There,” he stated quietly. When she raised her eyebrows in question, he smiled. “I had to know.”
“What?” she breathed.
“Blue or brown.”
She absently realized he was talking about her eye color. It was hard to think straight with him standing so close, almost touching her, and with her dying to know what it would be like to have him touching her, wanting, needing to know, ridiculously so. And all she had to do to find out was to reach up on her tiptoes and—“Did you win?” she said abruptly.
“Win?” he repeated, though he didn’t sound as if he really cared what she meant. He was too busy gazing at her, so directly…so intently.
“The b-bet,” she stammered, hearing her voice dip down an octave or so. “Blue. Or brown.” Her breath was shaky as he shifted another infinitesimal fraction of space closer. “Did you? Win?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a shade deeper, a shade less flat. “I did.”
They were talking, but it was becoming rapidly apparent that the words themselves weren’t important as there was another dialogue going on entirely. The kind that didn’t rely on speech for communication.
“Good,” she said, the word barely more than a breath.
“I have another.”
“Bet?”
He merely nodded.
“About?”
“This.” He leaned his head down and just like that he pressed those incredible lips against hers. Not demanding, but not at all tentative. Just testing…exploring…finding out…whatever it was he needed to find out.
And it seemed the most natural thing in the world to respond, to lean into the kiss and do some exploring of her own. He tasted fresh, with a little salty tang from the sea air. She felt a moan build in the base of her throat as he opened his mouth and coaxed her to do the same. She had an almost desperate need for him to touch her. Her face, her hair, anywhere. This simple touching of lips was almost excruciating in how it could be so overwhelming…and yet make her feel so deprived at the same time. She wanted more.
He teased his tongue into her mouth and the moan was wrenched from her as she accepted it—almost greedily. She couldn’t have rightly given her middle name at the moment, her thoughts had scattered so rapidly the instant his mouth had touched hers. The world had tilted somehow and everything that made sense was suddenly all jumbled up. When she didn’t think she could stand the sweet torture one second longer, he finally—mercifully—slid his hands to her shoulders, turned her fully into him, leaning back against the Jeep so he could accept the weight of her body framed so perfectly against his.
She was sinking in the blissful cloud of ecstasy he’d created, completely willing to forget she was standing in a public parking lot, kissing a perfect stranger. Perfect. God knew the kiss alone was as close to perfection as she’d ever come. Come.
Dear Lord, could she ever.
Images of doing just that sprang fully realized into her mind at the same instant he settled her weight between his thighs. The contact was electric…and had the effect of splashing cold water on a hot wire. Sizzle and steam…and the fear of getting burned. She pulled away, gasping in a breath of air as the reality of what they were doing, where they might have taken it—right there in the parking lot, no less—sank in.
She couldn’t act horrified, though part of her—the part that had spent an entire lifetime understanding the role proper decorum played in the life of a public figure—wanted to. It had been too incredible, and she’d been too obviously enjoying it, to pretend otherwise. Sean pushed away from the Jeep and reached instinctively for her hips, to steady her as she stumbled a step back from him. As soon as she had her balance, he let her go.
She stemmed the urge to look around the lot, to find out just how big an audience they might have had. It wasn’t all that hard. She couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from his.
“I suppose I should apologize for that,” he said, his voice now delectably hoarse. “Or at least tell you that I don’t make a habit of kissing women I’ve only just met.”
She smiled, suddenly not caring who was watching. Sean Gannon had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if she was the only person in the room…or parking lot, as the case may be. And she decided maybe it was time to let go of a lifetime of proper decorum and do what she’d come here to do…relax. Enjoy life. Leave all her worries behind. “Actually, I’m more interested in finding out if you resolved that other bet you made with yourself.”
His smile twitched to a grin and his eyes flashed in that dangerous way. “I did. Except I lost this one.”
Surprised, she said, “Oh?”
He reached out, snagged the edge of her hand with his, hooking his finger around her pinky and pulling it up between them. “I bet you couldn’t taste as incredible as I imagined you could. And I was wrong.”
She looked down at their loosely linked hands, thinking it was almost a more intimate gesture than his kiss. But she liked the way he had the urge to continue touching her, connecting himself to her in some way. She understood the need, because she felt it herself. “Wrong?” she asked, lifting her gaze back to him and thinking, God, how long has it been since I so shamelessly flirted with a man?
Never, was the instantaneous—and honest—answer. But then, she’d never been alone on an exotic island. Alone with a man like Sean Gannon.
He tugged her pinky, just a little, but she shuffled a step closer. “Completely wrong,” he said, his smile lazy and the light in his eyes distinctly and unapologetically predatory.
She knew she had a decision to make, and that she had to make it fast. But in her day-to-day life, decisions were weighty matters, only being handed down after intense scrutiny and in-depth analysis of all the presented facts. Now, however, she didn’t have that luxury. Sean Gannon wanted her. Right here. Right now. And damn if she didn’t want him back. It should be more complicated than that.
But certainly he was a man who understood boundaries, a man who had built a life based on a code of conduct, knew that rules were made for a reason. A man who wouldn’t pursue beyond what she was willing to give. Which was, of course, the big question here.
What was she willing to give?
Everything, her body and mind screamed. At least for the next couple of hours. Maybe the next couple of days. Surely she could afford herself that luxury, here of all places. The luxury of letting go, of taking what she wanted. With no regrets. Only intensely wonderful memories of a place out of time, spent with a man far outside of her world.
“Completely wrong?” she repeated.
He dropped her pinky and reached for her hips, pulling her to him in one smooth yank, settling her weight on him, his grip just firm enough to discourage her from stepping away again. Not that she would have. Everything lined up so perfectly, so…She shuddered as she braced her hands on his chest.
“You far surpassed anything I could have dreamed up,” he murmured, already lowering his mouth to hers. “Are you a dream, Laurel Patrick? You sure taste like one.”
A shiver raced over her when he brushed his lips along hers.
“Maybe dreams aren’t such a bad thing to have,” she murmured, moving her lips to the sandpapery smooth skin of his jaw. His swift intake of breath when she pressed a kiss just beneath that hard curve was as intoxicating as it was seductive.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Because, occasionally, one of them comes true.”