16
EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE
Her skin felt tight.Anticipation buzzed across it, and the storm of Temple’s gaze made her lightheaded.No idea what he would do next.He had not fallen on her ravenously, but nor had he run away.She’d told him what she wanted, and now he must either take her or leave her.Not because she did not have the courage to take what she wanted herself, but because she needed to be chased, caught up in those arms and desired.
He flinched, and delight coursed through her.His body would fall atop her now, press her into the mattress with his delicious weight.
But it didn’t.Not a fall.Just that flinch, that single twitch before muscle wrestled control back into its grip.Then another.His fingers drumming against his thigh as if trying to decide what to do.
Her knees had begun to ache.If he didn’t make a decision soon, she would abandon the need to be pursued.Ifshemust choose—a night in her husband’s arms or forcing him to close the distance between them first—well… an easy choice to make.Perhaps one day he would cross the distance on his own, make her feel as desired as he made her feel safe.
But then his hands bunched at the bottom of his shirt, pulled it free from his trousers.He shrugged out of his waistcoat, then with one fluid arc of movement, discarded the shirt.He paused, gauging her reaction.
What did he see?She knew whatshefelt.Appreciation because he was hard and well-built, his muscles swollen and chiseled with purpose.Hunger because she wanted to feel that honed body, taste it, claim it.Claim him.Arousal.Oh yes, that the most dominant of all the rioting emotions.
Whatever he saw there, he approved because without releasing her gaze, he unbuttoned his fall.His trousers sank on his finely cut hips, caught unfortunately on the top of his delectable rear.
He lifted a brow.Continue?it said.
Yes, please.She answered with the barely perceptible nod.
The twitch of a grin at his mouth curved larger, and he pushed his trousers down and off and stepped out of them.
And she discovered she was a bit trepidatious.Mechanics said that bit of him, long and thick and tall and standing proud, was supposed to goinsideher.But she had never had anything bigger than a finger there before.Still, what a fascinating thing.The urge of exploration was creeping on her fast.She crawled to the edge of the bed.She reached out and drew her fingertips down his ribs, down the hard muscle of his side.She stroked his hip and his outer thigh.Surely he was made of rock, or more likely of the same iron he shaped with ease.She flattened her palm against his navel—not daring, yet, to go lower—and dragged her gaze up the hard length of his body to his chiseled face.
She licked her lips to wet her mouth.Dry, all of it.Only he, she suspected, could ease her thirst.
His thumb settled at the tip of her chin.The smallest touch with an outsized influence on her body.
She shivered and reached for the words she needed, fumbled with them but let them loose at last.“Last night I thought of you.After you left, I could not rid my body of you, of the sensations you gave me.So I touched myself and imagined it was you touching me.”
His throat bobbed.His hand shifted to cup the back of her neck.
“It felt so real,” she said, rolling her head back to fully embrace his touch.“I imagined touching you, too.”
The hand on the back of her neck tightened, and the other slipped around to possess a hip.He pulled her closer.She would have toppled off the edge of the bed had he not been pressed against its side, had he not been clutching her against him.
“Might as well have been real,” he said, his voice a grumble.“The iron connects us.I can feel your desire.No matter how far apart we are.”
There again—that iron connection.How deep would it go?
“It will be real enough tonight.”His voice was rough velvet.“The only real thing in the world.”Then he kissed her, poured his heat across her lips, and she welcomed the inferno.
He made her mindless with his kiss as he set a knee on the bed, then another, easing her backward onto the mattress.Skin kissing, too, and every inch of connection a little world of fireworks.
“I want to touch you everywhere,” he breathed against her lips.
“Yes.”
“All at once.”
She managed a laugh, breathy and true.“You only possess two hands.”
“Minor detail.I’ll overcome.”His hands surged into her hair as he rolled his hips against her.Sensation sparked hard across her skin, dove deep down into her bones.Somehow, he achieved his desired end.Even with only two hands at his disposal.
He seemed to touch her everywhere.And she knew the need to do the same.Too much of him to conquer at once, though, so she made a journey of it—rough jaw and corded neck, muscle-bunched shoulders and smooth back, the hills of his ribs, the flat of his abdomen, the hard planes of his chest where the faint but frantic beat of his heart greeted her palm.
“There you are, Temple Grant,” she whispered against his skin, placing a kiss over that heart.“As strong as I thought you would be.”
