My heart fluttered.
“Can I make you dinner? I want to feed you.” He flashed his dimple. “More than just pickles.”
“Are you a fabulous cook?”
“I can barbeque just about anything.” He laughed, a genuine happy sound.
“Will I be allowed to help?”
He grabbed me and kissed me in a way that stole my breath. I was gasping when he released me. I didn’t care what we had for dinner anymore.
“I’ll let you do anything you want.” He reached for his phone.“I need you in my bed tonight.”
My heart skipped a beat. The tips of his ears turned pink while I read his message. He wasn’t as confident as he pretended.
I answered through my thoughts. I wanted to be naked with him, so I pictured it in vivid detail. It had been so long since I’d had sex, and longer still since I’d wanted it like this. I imagined it with his every touch. If I seemed desperate or brazen, I didn’t care.
“If we start now, we won’t get food,” he said. “I’ve got steaks in the fridge. I want to feed you, then play for hours. You’ll need stamina.” His gaze burned.
I swallowed. Nobody had ever spoken to me like this. I was so turned on. I wished we could strip now, but he was right.
I called Ember and collected her travel supplies. Christopher’s eyes tracked my every move. This was more like the lust I expected. I changed into date clothes and packed an overnight bag.
Christopher’s house was a ten-minute drive from my place, situated on the hillside above the river. The house was set back from the road and private, surrounded by established trees.
“How can you afford a place like this?” I was envious of its solitude.
“My parents sold it to me. Gave me a deal. I love it here.”
Inside had a homey feel, cluttered with the artifacts of a busy life. Sunglasses, a stack of unopened mail, and a half-full coffee mug sat on the counter while a hoodie draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, but it wasn’t dirty. There were vaulted ceilings and a sunken living room with the mandatory big screen TV in the living room, but there was also a smaller, cozy room with a rounded wall and window seat that looked perfect for reading away the afternoon. I recognized many of the books on the shelves as recent publications, many of them non-fiction. History and biographies for the most part.
He saw my interest. “Does it surprise you I read a lot?”
He looked amused when I nodded. My old image of Christopher as a womanizing dating machine had been wrong, and I needed to let it go. I let Ember out of her carrier and put down a litter tray and her food dishes. While she explored, so did I, but only for a couple of minutes. Then I went to help with the food.
We didn’t make it much past dinner. We cleaned up the dishes and when I reached for the dishtowel to dry the wooden salad bowl, his long arm snaked out and captured me, tugging me close. I’d changed into a skirt for dinner and now his hands slid underneath it, holding me against him. I slipped my hands under his T-shirt and felt his solid bulk. His skin was warm, and he radiated heat. I loved feeling his strength. I was so wet it embarrassed me that he’d notice. He chuckled and stroked me through my lacy underwear.
“You’re wet and smooth,” he said. “I like that.”
I moaned when he slid a finger under the edge of my thong. He licked the finger that had touched me, tasted me. He leaned in for a kiss, his lips capturing mine. I trembled as he played with the lace of my soaked underwear, his touch tantalizing me.
Pausing for air, he said, “We won’t make love tonight.” His voice was low. His thumb stroked my lower lip, and I quivered like a bow drawn and held too long, the arrow ready.
As his words sank in, my hopes crashed. I stepped back, my cheeks flaming. Had I done something wrong? Misread the situation? I ached from want. I tried to turn away. Mortified.
“You mistake me,” he said, taking in my stricken face. He tugged me closer and kissed me again. His grip was like iron and so was the rest of him. I wasn’t mistaken about his need that matched my own. My knees weakened. His lips and body told me how much he wanted me. His breathing was erratic as he struggled for control.
He was impossible to resist, despite my confusion. He smelled delicious and tasted better.
“We’ll make love one day soon, but tonight won’t be slow and tender. I feel what you need,” he said. “You need a fuck.”
My knees buckled at his words. He was right. I trembled as his fingers slid beneath my underwear again. I was slippery and wetter than I’d imagined possible. Mixed into his kisses were small bites. The gentle scrape of his teeth on my neck as he nibbled his way up my throat and behind my ear was nearly my undoing. He wound me tighter and tighter. I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the slow, swirling movement of his fingers, the taste, and the feel of his mouth.
“You need this. Hell, I do. I won’t be gentle. I want to wreck you.”
He stroked my most sensitive places, his eyes on my face, watching me react to his words. My heart raced, and he smiled when my pulse quickened. He slid my underwear off.
“I’ve wanted you for years,” he said, his words soft in my ear. “Even when I thought we’d never have a chance, I fantasized about you.”
