She might have been annoyed by the bluntness if she weren’t feeling the same thing herself. It was more than that, but how much more she didn’t know herself.
But tonight had proved that she wasn’t quite as over him as she wanted to think, and maybe he wasn’t as incapable of feelings as he appeared. But could she let herself care about him again?
Did she have a choice?
She didn’t know. But something told her she couldn’t let this moment go. She had to hold on to the closeness.
He’d turned to her last night in his sleep and kissed her today as if she were the most important thing in the world to him. He couldn’t make himself go through with what he had planned tonight, and then he’d confided in her about something she was sure he didn’t even want to acknowledge to himself. That had to mean something.
It meant she was going to do something potentially really stupid or really wonderful again.
Or maybe both.
She stood on her tiptoes to whisper softly in his ear, “Then why don’t you?”
The hand resting on her hip and back gripped a little harder. She could feel the restraint in each press of his fingers, and when he spoke, his voice came out just as hard and tense as his body. “I’m not going to do this, Brit.”
She let her mouth roam near his ear and down his neck, pressing soft little kisses everywhere she went. God, he smelled good. She could still catch the hint of the soap he’d used earlier. He didn’t smell like smoke or alcohol, which made her wonder where he’d been for so many hours. But that was a question for another time.
Now all she wanted to ask was, “Why not?”
•••
Good question. One John didn’t have the answer for right now. Not when those soft, warm lips were pressing against his skin and sure as hell not when the tight little body that seemed to meld right into him started to press provocatively against an erection that was definitely all in.
It just felt too damned good. Too damned right.
But he wasn’t going to think about that either.
How could he when he was suddenly kissing her and she was curling in his arms with little sounds of delight as his tongue delved and circled deeper and deeper into her mouth?
He was consumed by kissing. Savoring every stroke, every taste, every response. He loved how her body slid into his. How her breasts crushed against his chest, how her arms wrapped around his neck, how her soft body stretched out against his.
How they felt together.
He loved it even better when she pushed him back on the bed and she was on top of him. Their mouths never separated. They didn’t stop kissing even as their limited clothes started to land in a heap on the floor.
He didn’t want to let her go. Even to lift off her T-shirt. He might have torn it off her if she hadn’t pushed herself away with a laugh.
She was sitting upright, straddled over him. “You aren’t going to ruin my favorite T-shirt.”
Once she lifted the seen-better-days Georgetown ringer over her head, any response he might have had fell aside. He was too busy trying to contain himself at the feast before his eyes. To hell with thePlayboyunderwear; the bare breasts in front of him were infinitely more enticing.
He couldn’t hold back a second longer. He slid his hands up the smooth skin of her stomach to cup the heavy mounds of sweet flesh in his hands.
He gave a low groan of pleasure. He’d died and entered man heaven. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but ifPlayboyever does an annoying-reporter issue, you could have the centerfold.”
Just to make sure the annoying-reporter remark didn’t get his hands removed, he started to squeeze and rub his thumbs over the perfect pink tips.
She must have liked it because she arched a little deeper into his hands before she replied. “How could I possibly take being objectified to serve as men’s spank material wrong? But I will accept the sexist remark in the complimentary way that it was intended.”
He feigned offense. “Hey, I read it for the articles. And the pictures are art.”
She made a sound that showed how much she believed that. “And I’m not annoying,sweetheart. I’m persistent. They aren’t the same thing.”
He grinned, deciding not to press his luck by arguing, and went back to admiring her flawless creamy skin, which was getting a nice rosy flush from his efforts, the hard pink tips, and the incredible feel of all that very feminine weight in his hands.
She arched and stretched with his ministrations, but as soon as her hips started to lift, he knew playtime was over. He had to be inside her.
