| Emily's gaze locked with his.
She opened her mouth and slowly leaned forward until the
cheesecake Drew held out for her teased the tip of her tongue. In
a blatant, brazen move, she seductively closed her lips around the
fork and gently slid the confection onto her tongue, issuing a
husky moan of delight, practically guarantying the launch of his
imagination.
Mission accomplished, she thought with a
small, satisfied smile. When the color of his eyes brightened as
they filled with desire, she threw accelerant on the smoldering
embers by using the tip of her tongue to lick away a tiny smudge
of the creamy dessert lingering on the edge of the fork.
She had no illusions of a future with Drew,
but decided stumbling through life in fear of suffering the
fallout from another relationship gone south, for whatever reason,
was no way to live. Okay, so maybe she usually did find herself in
the wrong relationship with the wrong man, and while her handful
of previous lovers had some pretty odd quirks and strange habits a
little too distasteful for her liking, that didn't necessarily
translate to them being bad guys, they just weren't the right guys
for her.
Drew may not be the right guy for her,
either. She really wasn't prepared to hazard a guess, but she
refused to continue fighting her attraction to him. She didn't
believe she was foolish enough to have actually lost all of her
common sense and fallen in love, but she did harbor feelings for
him that extended beyond basic sexual attraction.
He cleared his throat. "What was your
question?" he asked, his voice slightly raspy.
"I asked if your oldest brother was
married."
"The only way some woman will ever get
Ben to the alter would be to bind and gag him first."
Not exactly the direction she'd wanted their
conversation to take, especially when attempting to seduce a man
into her bed. "A confirmed bachelor, huh?"
He glanced down at the fork in his hand, then
set it on the napkin. His lips tipped upward in a smile so wicked
her breath caught.
"Forget my brother." He dipped his
finger in the cheesecake. "Forget forks, too."
Drawing air into her lungs took effort, but
he'd accepted her challenge and she wasn't about to back down now.
Just as she did with the fork, she leaned forward and eased her
lips over his sensual offering. With aching slowness, she sucked
hard on his finger, then slid her tongue around and around the
dessert, the sugary confection dissolving in her mouth as she
pulled away.
He made a sound that could have been a sigh
of pleasure or a hiss of agony. Desire, hot and liquid, simmered
inside her, more intense than the late summer heatwave, and twice
as liberating.
"Conversation is overrated," she
murmured a half second before her breathing stalled.
His gaze intent, he stood and slowly circled
the table. She rose and met him halfway. With her arms around his
neck, she sought his mouth like a heat seeking missile. He held
her hips lightly in his grasp as he backed her up against the
countertop, then gently lifted her onto the cool surface.
Impatiently, he nudged her legs apart and stepped between them
before urging her bottom to the edge of the counter.
His tongue mated thoroughly with hers as she
rocked her hips against the hard ridge of his desire pressing
insistently against the fly of his khaki trousers. Her soft moan
sounded more like a strangled cry of need, but she zipped past
caring the second she'd licked dessert from his finger.
She wanted Drew. Wanted him inside her,
wanted him to fuel the heat until they were consumed by the
flames. The intensity of the clawing need twisting in her belly
had her wet, moist, primed for the ease of his body sliding into
hers.
Never had she experienced such a deep, primal
desire to mate. She'd mistakenly believed her guard had been up,
but somehow, Drew had broken past her imaginary barriers and
marked her soul, leaving his imprint on her heart.
His mouth seduced her. The glide of his hands
over her body tantalized and teased. With lightening speed, she
raced across the line of common sense. The pursuit of pleasure
took precedent over lists and goals. The fulfillment of the
insistent demands of her body outweighed rational thought by the
tonnage.
She tugged the hem of his navy blue polo
shirt from his trousers, reached beneath the knit fabric and
smoothed her hands over his torso while he made her crazy by
nipping and laving at her throat, the lobe of her ear, then along
her jaw line.
The texture of his skin, the muscle beneath
her fingertips, the intoxicating, arousing scent of him, lifted
her to a new level of awareness. The need to feel her breasts
against the solid wall of muscle single-mindedly drove her. In
record time, she eased away from him to whip off her t-shirt. She
tossed the garment somewhere over his shoulder, not bothering to
look despite the rattle of glassware when it landed.
He sucked in a sharp breath as she reached
behind her to unfasten her bra. "No," he whispered.
"Not yet."
She cried out in a wild combination of
mindless pleasure and heated frustration as his mouth trailed a
path of burning kisses down her throat to her breast. Through the
pink floral satin material, he palmed her breast and traced his
thumb around her already taut nipple. Her back arched and she
boldly wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him closer. When
he pushed the cup aside and took her into the silky, heated warmth
of his mouth, her world tilted. Her senses went haywire, spinning
out of control from a determined battle of hedonistic desire and
mind-blowing pleasure. |
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