"Noa," his fingers thread into my hair. "If we go in there, I need you to know something." His eyes search mine in the candlelight. "It's been a long time."
A delicious shiver runs down my spine. This is the real Brian Klein—not the polished professional, but the man beneath. Raw with desire.
I smile up at him, heart racing. "I'll be gentle."
Something primal flashes in his eyes, and before I can take another breath, he bends down and sweeps me into his arms. "Baby.” His eyes darken. “Gentle is not what I'm looking for." The sudden movement makes me gasp—I'm not a small woman, but he lifts me effortlessly.
"Which room is yours?" It's more of a command than a question, his voice a growl against my ear.
Chapter 5
Brian
She feels perfect in my arms—soft curves pressed against my chest, her warmth seeping through my shirt. I follow her lead down the short hallway and kick the bedroom door open without putting her down.
The storm rages outside, but here, time slows. I place her on the edge of the bed, my hands lingering on her waist. What twist of fate brought me to this bookshop, to this woman, on this night? Whatever deity arranged this deserves my eternal gratitude.
"Take off your sweater." My voice is rough. "I want to see you."
Noa's eyes never leave mine as she reaches for the hem of that fuzzy fabric, pulling it slowly over her head. Her dark curls tumble back down around her shoulders, and I swallow hard at the sight of her in a simple black bra, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
"You're gorgeous," I murmur, leaning down to press my lips to her collarbone. She shivers, and I smile against her skin. "Wait here."
I return to the living room to collect a few of the lit candles from her coffee table. When I come back, she's sitting in the middle of the bed, watching me with those expressive eyes. I place the largest candle on her dresser and arrange the others around the room. With each flame that flickers and recovers, more of her is revealed to me—the fullness of her breasts, the softness of her stomach, and the curve of her hips still trapped in denim.
"Stand up," I tell her, and she does immediately. The power she's giving me is intoxicating. "I want to watch you undress."
She smiles—not shy, but knowing. "And your clothes?"
"We'll get to that." I loosen my tie and lean against the dresser, crossing my arms. "Your jeans first."
She pops the button and slides the zipper down slowly. The denim clings to her curves as she pushes it down her hips and steps out one leg at a time. Black panties match her bra, both plain but somehow perfect against her skin.
"Now the rest," I say, my voice barely controlled as I begin to loosen my cuffs and roll up my sleeves. "Slowly."
She reaches behind herself to unhook her bra, letting it fall from her shoulders. Her breasts are full and perfect, and her nipples are already tight in the cool air. I grip the edge of the dresser to keep from rushing to her.
Her panties follow, sliding down those magnificent thighs until she stands before me, completely naked, illuminated by candlelight. Every curve, every dip and swell of her body is a revelation.
"Touch your breasts," I tell her, my hands moving to my belt. "I want to watch you while I undress."
Her hands cup her chest, thumbs gliding over her nipples. A soft sigh escapes her lips, and I nearly come undone.
I pull my tie free with deliberate slowness. My shoes follow, then each button of my shirt, revealing more of my chest with each movement. Her eyes follow my hands, her own still on her breasts, kneading gently.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I tell her honestly, letting my shirt fall to the floor. "A fucking holiday miracle."
She laughs, the sound turning into a gasp as I step forward and drop to my knees in front of her. I press my face against her stomach and inhale her scent, my hands gripping the backs of her thighs.
"Get on the bed, Noa," I command, feeling primal and bossy. "In the middle. Let me see you in the light."
She complies, settles among her pillows, and watches me finish undressing. My pants and boxers join the pile of clothing on her floor, and I stand before her, letting her take her time to look her fill.
"Brian," she whispers, reaching for me.
"Not yet." I climb onto the bed and move between her legs. "I've been thinking about tasting you since you had that powdered sugar on your lip."
I press her thighs apart, exposing her most intimate place to the flickering candlelight. She's already wet, glistening for me, and I groan at the sight.
