Instead, he leaned in and ran his nose along the edge of hers, the scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and Irina turning him hot. Her body responded to his, even if she was going to deny it later. There was no mistaking the way her mouth parted the slightest bit, and her breasts pressed a little against him.
An actress could pretend all the rest, but she couldn’t dilate her eyes on command.
Could she?
No, he was certain.
“Are we doing this, or are we just standing here?” she whispered against his mouth, but while the words were strong, the little crack in her voice gave her away.
She cleared her throat.
“Irina.” He tsked. “Relax and enjoy the experience.”
He traced his fingertip along the back of her neck, and he was pretty sure her nipples got harder when she pressed against him. Yup, they were harder.
“I was just super hoping I could get some sleep tonight,” she went on. “And the pasta’s fantastic, and we’re just standing here, so—”
He kissed her.
Was it to make her stop talking? Partly.
Also, it was because enough was enough.
She made a small squeak noise when he pulled her tighter against his chest and tilted his head to get better purchase on her mouth. Chocolate, Irina, and this science experiment came together for one exceptional kiss. Probably one of his best, if he was being totally honest, maybe even top-three.
Irina made a sound in the back of her throat as her hands went to his neck and she held on there.
He went with it, his body reacting to hers in a way he was totally on board with.
Top-two kiss, for sure.
Still, he kept control of the experience, so it didn’t become one of her mechanical bull rides. Though, given the way their tongues tangled, and the way her body pressed against his, and the noises that came from the back of her throat, there was nothing mechanical about this ride.
Actually, he was enjoying himself pretty fucking well, too.
He took the kiss deeper, sliding his leg between hers when she tried to climb him like an oak. He didn’t grip her ass because he was being a jackass. He did it so she didn’t fall over, given the way her core pressed against his thigh, and the moans came from her throat.
They should’ve done this a long time before now. That was the goddamned truth.
Irina’s palms moved to where his shirt met the top of his slacks, pulling at the fabric there like she just couldn’t get enough.
But if they went that direction, she’d get no sleep. And, while he’d appreciate her willingness to let him have his way, he also didn’t want to be a major contributor to her lack of rest.
Gently, he set her back down on the floor, lightened the kiss, and removed his thigh from between her legs. Was he hard as steel while he peppered little kisses against the side of her mouth? Yes, but he’d deal with that later.
Finally, back on even footing, they were both breathing wicked fast.
“What do you think?” he asked with a wink. “Ever had a kiss like that?”
Because he hadn’t.
That was a top-shelf make out session, if he said so himself. Judging by the way her puffy lips pressed closed and then open, she was still finding her way down from the peak. Hell, he was blinking hard himself and a touch wobbly.
Good for him, he still had it. Though he resisted the urge to blow on his knuckles and rub them against his collar, since that would take things too far.
He caught the moment she slid into character—the character of Irina. This ought to be good.
“Scale of one to ten?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
