She raised bent arms, her palms to the sky. “Now what?”
“Now we play.” He reached forwards, his destination obvious, and she brushed his hand away before he could touch her breast.
She wagged her finger. “Terms first. Then touching.” Much, much touching, she hoped. Never before had she been without clothes out-of-doors, and her skin thrilled from the freedom. It loved every brush of air against it and wanted more. Wanted John’s hands caressing every inch.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course. I propose another game of kissing. The first person to touch the other with anything other than his or her lips, loses.”
“That’s it?”
He rocked his weight onto the balls of his feet. “I prefer simple contests.”
She flicked a glance down to his falls. “And we are kissing each other…”
“On the mouth, you filthy wanton.” He advanced a step.
“Then why am I naked?”
He grinned. “It will save time after you lose.”
“I won’t lose.” She shifted, her thighs rubbing together. Wetness gathered at her lower lips and she didn’t think a few kisses would alleviate her need. “What will my prize be?”
“If I touch you first and you win, which you won’t,” he quickly added. “I give you an orgasm. If I win—”
“I give you one?” She had to win. There was no way she was leaving this gazebo without satisfaction.
He swung his head side to side. “You still get your climax. Only when I win, it happens when I’m buried deep inside of you.”
Her mouth went dry. Now this was a dilemma. She loved winning.
But she wanted to lose very badly.
“Deal?” he asked.
She stepped toe-to-toe with him. “Deal.” She lifted her face.
He would have to kiss her first. Without the use of her hands, she couldn’t yank him down to her as she’d like.
He made the most of his power. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he lowered his head. He paused, his breath fluttering over her lips, his eyes glittering as bright as sapphires in the light from the gas lamp by the side door.
“Confound it.” She stamped her foot. She should have stamped his foot. “Stop dawdling and—”
He covered her mouth with his, cutting off her demand.
His kiss was dark, dirty, and impressive considering it was without the use of his hands. Even with just his lips, his tongue, he controlled her movements. With just the slightest pressure, she knew when to angle her head. When to widen her mouth and allow him full access.
Her skin heated and her head went light. The slick glide of his tongue over hers made her whimper. The scrape of his teeth made her moan. And when finally he lifted his head, she couldn’t hold back her breathy sigh.
She had never been kissed so well.
He brought his head low again, and she rolled up on her toes, eager for the next one.
He held back. “You lose,” he said.
Netta drew her eyebrows together. “What?”
He ran his fingers up her arms until they reached her hands. Which were gripping his shoulders like he was the last pound cake in the bakeshop.
“Oh.” She didn’t remember raising her hands, but now that they were there she smoothed them along the firm muscles of his chest. “How did that happen?”
