“And the traffic on the way was impossible as…”
Coop lifted his water glass, throat working as he swallowed. That alone, the flex of muscle beneath tanned skin, one unguarded second of something entirely ordinary, was so distracting, so utterly devastating, the same as the man. It took her a moment to realize she’d stopped speaking mid-sentence.
“You were saying?” he prompted, his deep voice having a similar effect to his swallow.
“I, uh, yes… I was,” she stammered, making zero sense.
His lips quirked up, slow and knowing, and heat coiled in her belly.
She pushed away from the table a little too fast, the chair legs scraping. “Dessert?” she asked, grabbing plates.
He leaned back in his chair and looked at her in a way that made her pulse throb. “I think dessert’s standing in front of me.”
For a second, she could only stare at him. Then she crossed to the sink and set everything down harder than she meant to. Stoneware clattered against steel. She braced her hands on the counter, pressing her thighs together as the ache intensified. She took a slow breath. Then another.
Without turning, she said, “You’re direct tonight.”
He was behind her a second later. Three strides, no hesitation. His hands on her hips turned her to face him.
“Do you mind?” His voice was rougher, a current of urgency curling through it.
“No,” she whispered. “I like it. Almost as much as I like… dessert.”
His blue eyes flickered with surprise then heat. The tan lines beside them crinkled as his mouth found hers again.
The kiss turned hungry, like they hadn’t just eaten, picking up where they’d left off in the entryway. Her hands slid up his chest, fisting in his shirt as her mouth opened beneath his. His tongue swept inside, and the kiss ignited.
A soft sound slipped from her throat when he lifted her onto the counter in one smooth motion.
Cool tile met her back, the solid weight of him settling between her thighs as if he belonged there. It nearly undid her.
Clothes became a problem they solved together. Buttons came undone, a zipper dragged open, fabric was shoved asidewithout apology. The gauze of her dress bunched high under his hands, and the brush of denim against her inner thighs pulled a soft, helpless sound from her throat.
When everything stopped suddenly, it turned into a frustrated whimper.
“Hang on,” he said, lips brushing her cheek.
She heard his wallet hit the floor then the brief, unmistakable crinkle of practicality.
“Hurry,” she urged.
Erica dared a look down when he spread her legs wider, trembling when the tip of his shaft glided through her wetness. When he sank into her, she went still, breath catching from the fullness and the realness of him after so long.
Her arms wound around his shoulders, fingers sliding into his hair, holding on as she waited for her gift to reassert itself, drowning her in everything he was feeling instead of letting her have this. She’d been bracing for it since he first touched her. But there was nothing. Only the heat and stretch of him, and the pull of intense need already building at her center. She almost laughed with relief.
He’d gone still, too, his breath warm at her throat. His lips brushed her pulse point. “Still nothing?”
“Yes.” The word came out certain. “And it’s amazing.”
She felt it before she heard it: the small exhale, the way he relaxed into her by degrees. Then his breath warmed her throat, and something in her pulled taut. Her hips pressed closer before she’d thought to move them, her body answering a question her mind hadn’t finished asking. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she brought his mouth up to hers, kissing him open-mouthed and unguarded.
He needed no further reassurance and moved. She gasped, a ragged sound she couldn’t contain. Then every lucid thought inher head dissolved. It left only rhythm, friction, and anticipation that climbed and climbed until it had nowhere left to go.
He murmured her name like it meant the world.Erica.
That, on top of everything else, triggered her unraveling. Sensation crested, her fingers curled hard into his shoulders. Her body shuddered with the force of it, and she came apart in his hands, right there, on her kitchen counter.
He followed her over, groaning low and rough, open mouth pressed to the bend of her neck.
