"Going for a drive. I want to talk to you." He spared her a brief glance and admired the way her hair shone under the light of the moon streaming through the window. She had on a snug hunter green sweater dress with big brass buttons going down the front and knee-high boots.
"Take me back." Her arms were folded on her chest, expression mutinous.
"In a minute." He came to a stop beneath the overhanging branches of an old redwood tree. Turning off the engine, he unsnapped his seatbelt and turned to face her. "I did not like the way you looked when I picked Zoe up."
She tried for a sneer and failed. "That has nothing to do with you."
"You looked miserable, as if I was tearing your heart out. It's been haunting me. You've been haunting me." When he stretched his arm across the back of her seat, she jolted and tried to move.
"Are you afraid of me, little one?" He asked huskily.
The timbre of his voice and the words had something melting inside her.
"Don't be ridiculous. Will you please take me home?"
He toyed with the ends of her hair, sliding his fingers through the glossy strands. "You've haunted me for years."
"You--"
"Shh." He continued still in that mild tone, laser blue eyes boring into hers. His long fingers feathered over the flesh at the back of her neck, sending little licks of fire all over her. "I hurt you before and cannot expect you to forgive me immediately. But I need that forgiveness, Abigail. I want to prove to you that I'm nolonger that person." She shrank back when he moved closer and unhooked her seatbelt.
Her heart was beating hard and fast, her pupils dilating.
Instead of moving, he hovered there, pressing his body on hers. "I couldn't concentrate on anything. I kept seeing your exquisite face and the look in your eyes and I told myself that I never want to be the one to put that look there again." Tilting her chin up, he held her gaze as he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.
Common sense tried to break through the sexual haze, but she was slowly going under. Everything she had told herself about him were fading away from her mind. All she could do was feel. His fingers on her, the look of intense desire that was igniting her own.
Lifting her hands, she planted them on his chest, shivering when she felt the unsteady beating of his heart through the material of his sweater.
"I want to make love to you."
"No." She groaned it out.
"You're in my blood. Wanting you is driving me insane. Let me have you baby." Without waiting for her response, he closed his mouth over hers. She resisted at first, put up a weak struggle, but it was too much. Passion swamped her, making her open her mouth. His sigh was soft, sliding over her skin like a kiss.
His tongue traced the outline of her full bottom lip and had her moaning. Her fingers gripped the front of his sweater, body arching towards his.
He nibbled, taking his time, absorbing the heat, the scent and the taste. He could feast for days, weeks even and it would never be enough. He wanted his hands on her, all over her, familiarizing himself with every curve and dip of her slender body, the one that had carried his child for nine months.
The thought of it drove him mad and had him changing the tone of the kiss. His tongue darted into her mouth, tangling with hers as he breathed her in.
He took the kiss deeper, his fingers fisting in the thick strands. He used it to lift her head up, so he could get better access to her mouth. She tasted like honey and brandy warmed over. He wanted, wanted, wanted.
Lifting her up, he plopped her in his lap without breaking the kiss. The contact with her was so heady, he felt as if he was about to die from feeling her against him.
Reaching between them, he started to unhook buttons until he came in contact with flesh as soft as cream. The lace of her bra simply melted beneath his impatient fingers. Something ripped, but neither of them cared. Her breasts filled his palms, the nipples rubbing against his skin.
The location wasn't ideal; he had wanted their first time together after five years to be in a bedroom with candles glowing. He hadn't planned on taking her in his car, on a dark side street, but it had to be now. Dragging his lips from hers, he nibbled on her lobe, then went to the side of her neck, the exposed area of her throat.
"Sweetheart, let me--" He bunched the dress up around her waist, hand palming her sex. When he slipped his fingers between the lace and touched her, she erupted. Closing his mouth over hers, he swallowed her cries as she crested against his fingers.
She was hot, so hot and moist. Shifting to the side, he somehow maneuvered them into a position where he could release his throbbing erection. His eyes on hers, he parted her thighs and entered her swiftly. Her tightness had him pausing, his heart hammering, his throat dry.
"Finally." He whispered hoarsely as he drove into her.
Chapter 11
She was curled into a ball, wondering how to edge away from him and gather up her clothing as well as her dignity.
