No. No.No.
She would not let her mind fix on body image and all the crap that went with it. Last warning. She forced her hands to her sides and let gravity do its thing. The cotton sundress slid down, snaring on her hips. Hone’s quick tug sent it swooshing to the floor. She stepped out of the circle of fabric.
“Turn around,” Hone said in a hoarse voice.
That weird red light glittered in his gaze. His lips curved up in sexy-man approval. “Gorgeous underwear.”
Her shoulders straightened and pride roared through her. She did look good—glamorous even—in her favorite set of black lingerie.
Without warning, he moved, scooping her into his arms. He deposited her on the bed, then sat back to remove her black sandals. Instead of progressing quickly, as Kevin had, he massaged her feet.
“Pretty toes,” he whispered.
She made a note to thank Emma for the pedicure suggestion.
His hands moved up her calves, stroking and rubbing until she wanted to melt into the mattress. Arousal stroked over her body, prickling her breasts and standing her nipples to attention.
One of his fingers traced the hi-cut lacy leg of her black briefs.
“Part your legs for me, sweetheart.”
Her legs parted before the thought to obey filtered through her mind.
Hone inhaled, and his red-brown eyes drew her slightly blurry attention. “You want me.”
“Yes.” Nothing less than the truth.
He rose up the bed until he was close enough for the fuzzy edges of his face to come into focus.
“I can see you properly now.”
His finger traced the lacy edge of a bra cup. “Have you always worn glasses?”
“Since I was four.” She chuckled at the memory, recalling her mother’s despair at a less-than-perfect child. “Both my parents have good eyesight. I inherited this from my father’s side, per my mother.”
“From the little I’ve heard about your family, your mother sounds like a witch.”
“Complete with broomstick at times,” Cassie agreed, her lips twitching. “She expects perfection. It’s the way her parents raised her, and sometimes she forgets that an imperfect moment or object can have its own charm. I just agree with her, make my own decisions, and live with her disapproval.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. In her own way, she loves me. It’s easier now that I’m older. Now let’s kick her out of this bed because talking about my parents and sex at the same time is slightly freaky.”
He ran his middle finger along the edge of her other bra cup, then surprised her again. Instead of whisking off her bra and panties, he settled in to kiss her. Long kisses. Slow kisses. Soft kisses. Passionate kisses.
Before, there had been one type of kiss in her repertoire. The perfunctory kisses made to prepare a body for sex. She clung to Hone, her fingers digging into his T-shirt clad shoulders as lips shaped and tested and learned.
“I can’t get enough of kissing you,” he said hoarsely.
“You kiss divinely. I should be wary of all that expertise, but wow!”
He laughed, the rough sound coming from deep in his throat. He shifted his body a fraction, notching his erection against her sex. A zinger swept her, stealing her breath, her ability to process ideas. Her lids closed.
“Open,” Hone whispered.
She raised her weighted lids with difficulty and stared at him. That weird red light in his irises drew her. Flames. That’s what it reminded her of—fire.
“Good girl.”
