Oh, his little spitfire had dirty things on her mind.
Tristan said, “If you’re just lonely and want someone to talk to, come on in and sit down.”
Relief spread over her elfin features, and one side of her mouth began to rise in a smile.
“You can have a seat on the bed.” Tristan stretched his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back. “I’ll just stay over here unless you invite me over there with you.”
Colleen hopped up on his bed, which he hadn’t noticed was quite high. She said, “I mean, it’s your room. You can sit anywhere you want.”
That little minx. He said, “I don’t want you to think I’m easy. Just because we went out to dinner doesn’t mean I’m going to put out.”
Colleen bit her lower lip, her teeth digging into her soft mouth, and he could practically feel her scorching glance radiating through his clothes as she examined him from his face all the way down to his bare toes and back up to his eyes. “Damn, I was hoping you would.”
Tristan slammed his laptop shut and crossed the room with long strides, crawling over the end of the bed and standing on his knees over her before either one of them had the chance to inhale. He looked straight into her eyes, dead serious, and asked, “Are you sure?”
Her eyes were a little bigger as she stared up at him, a bit of nerves in there, and she nodded.
He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed the softness of her lips, starting slowly so she could back out if she changed her mind.
“Wait,” she said. “Do you have a condom? I didn’t.”
Tristan yanked the bedside dresser drawer and grabbed a handful of rubbers, scattering them on top of the nightstand. “You bet.”
She giggled and started kissing him again. In another second, she gathered her knees underneath her and rose to meet him, reaching behind herself to switch off the lamp on the nightstand.
Tristan murmured against her mouth, “Leave it on. I want to see you.”
She shook her head no, her lips sliding against his.
All right, they’d work on that later. Tristan flipped over his legs and rolled to the other side of the bed, turning off that lamp, too.
Darkness dropped into the room, and the only illumination was a trail of moonlight leading to a crescent on the waves outside and far below.
He scrambled back to her, whispering in her ear, “Jian is in the next bedroom. Are you sure you don’t want to take this back to your room?”
Her curls slid along his fingers as she shook her head, and she said, “I might lose my nerve on the way, and I don’t want to lose my nerve.”
“Then you’ll have to be quiet, or else we’ll scandalize him.”
“I will,” she said, and then her lips found his throat and slid down to his collarbone, her breath trickling inside the collar of his shirt.
Tristan was going to have a hard time staying quiet, and that headboard had looked like it might not be firmly attached to the wall and might wobble.
He ducked, caught her mouth with his, and dragged her up with him. Every tiny gasp and hum from her sparked his desire, and covetous energy swept through him.
Roses and vanilla perfumed her skin, and the fragile cotton of her shirt slid upward against her skin under his palms. His hands drifted lower, searching for the bare skin of her back under the fabric.
He wrapped his arms around her body, feeling the womanly softness pressed against his chest and his groin. When his hands found her shirt’s hem and sneaked inside to caress the skin over her lower ribs and spine, he felt her breath suck in against his mouth.
Every inch of his skin desired her. He was already ravenous to know what her body felt like when it was wrapped around his.
Her delicate fingers picked at the buttons of his shirt, and he forced himself to be still while she undressed him, quelling the urge to grab both sides of his shirt front and rip it open. Instead, his hands roamed her body, tracing her hourglass shape and squeezing the luscious rounds of her ass.
Finally, she’d gotten three of them unbuttoned, so he dragged his shirt out of his trousers, reached over his head, and pulled his shirt and undershirt over his head with one motion.
Even while he fought his way out of the dress shirt and threw it on the floor, her cool hands slipped up his chest, her fingers and palms rubbing up over the sensitive circles of his nipples, over his shoulders, and down his biceps.
Tristan could barely keep his breath as her fingers trailed over the ripples of his abs.
