“You’re right—I don’t notice anything unusual,” he said, his voice husky from the emotions filling his chest. “You don’t have much of a belly yet.”
“Even after all the food I ate tonight?” Lana laughed again. “Actually, I’ve grown a little. That’s why I’m wearing a dresswithout a waist. Some of my skirts and pants are already too tight to button. In another month, this pregnancy will be obvious. Wait and see.”
His hand was still on her belly. He realized he couldn’t feel the elastic band of her panties. Maybe she was wearing the bikini kind. Or maybe... Sweet Jesus, was she naked under there?
“I don’t want to wait for anything.” Forgetting to keep his distance, he cupped her behind. He didn’t find elastic there either, just warm, soft flesh. “Are you wearing panties tonight? Because I don’t feel any.”
“It’s a thong. That way, you don’t notice a panty line through the dress.”
He growled softly. “Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Her pupils dilated and her lips parted in the signal he’d been waiting for. “Well, are you going to kiss me or not?” she asked—make that demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled her tight against his body and gave her what they both wanted.
The spicy scent of Sly’s aftershave filled Lana’s senses and his shoulder muscles bunched under her hands. Her heart thudded so loudly, she was sure he and the entire neighborhood could hear it. Then he kissed her and everything else faded away.
Home. She was home.
All too soon, the kiss ended. He touched his forehead to hers. “I’ve missed this.”
The silver flecks in his eyes seemed to glow with heat. After weeks of wanting him, she was in no mood to stop now. Eager tomelt into another kiss, she tightened her arms around his neck. “Do that again, cowboy.”
He kissed her with a fierce need she felt clear to her toes. Their tongues tangled, and she tasted coffee, tiramisu, and passion. Her female parts grew wet and ached for him. She tried to hook her leg around his thigh, but her shift was too tight. Stepping out of her sandals, she stood on his boots in order to fit her body to his. With a sound of pure male satisfaction, he walked her backward toward the sofa. Thigh to thigh, hip to hip, his body hard in all the right places.
They sank onto the cushions, glued so tightly together they may as well have been one person. Only their clothing prevented them from joining fully. Several long, heated kisses later, he slid his hands to her breasts. Lana nearly moaned in relief.
He started to cup her, then hesitated. “Are you still sore?”
“Not so much.” She brought his hands to her nipples and showed him what she wanted.
“Okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “That feels... Yes.”
While his skilled fingers delivered dizzying pleasure to her breasts, he kissed her neck. Somehow her skirt got hiked up and one hand slid up the inside of her bare thigh. Her muscles went slack, and she was glad to be sitting down.
“You have the softest skin,” he murmured, as his warm hand slid toward the part of her that most wanted his attention.
She caught her breath until finally he breached her thong. It soon disappeared. Then, oh yes, he touched her most sensitive spot.
Moaning in pleasure, she lifted her hips right off the sofa.
“Your passion turns me on,” he growled, before he caught her in a searing kiss while his fingers drove her toward the brink.
“Sly,” she gasped against his lips. “If you keep doing that, I—I’m going to...”
“Climax? That’s good, Lana. Let go.”
“But I...” Whatever she was planning to say faded away. She flew apart.
When she floated back to earth, he kissed her. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Lana knew better. She was probably a big mess. She smoothed the skirt of her dress down, brushed the hair out of her eyes, and glanced at his pants. His erection was obvious.
The corners of his mouth lifted. “I’m a guy—I’m used to it. I’d better leave now while I still can.”
