Page 70 of Something Like That

But he needed to kiss her again.

He bent his head and captured her lips, pouring all his desperation, his need, into the kiss. She kissed him back, the need from her just as strong. He slid his hands up her arms. The wool of her coat was scratchy against his palms. He slipped it off her shoulders. She shook her arms, never stopping the kiss. Her coat tumbled to the ground.

She stepped forward, pressing herself against him, sandwiching him between her soft, sexy body and the cold, hard door. The contrast was heady. He shivered.

Placing his hands on her hips, the silky fabric of her dress quickly heated under his palms. She moaned, kissed him harder. He slipped his hands around to her ass, pulling her flush against him. With her heels on, she was the perfect height. Not that she didn’t fit perfectly against him all the time.

His hard cock pressed against her. She gasped and pulled away from his lips.

They stood there, in each other’s space, breathing hard. Her eyes had darkened, her pupils gobbling up the grey. She swiped her tongue over her lower lip. He groaned, missing the taste of her already.

The smooth silky fabric of her dress made it easy to slide his hands over her ass, grab a handful. She rocked her hips against his straining erection.

Unable to stand it any longer, he hiked her up, lifting her off her feet. She gasped again, and wrapped her arms around his neck, but didn’t demand her put her down. Good stuff.

He walked over to the bed, thanking his past self for leaving the bedside lamp on in his rush to leave this afternoon, and set her on her feet.

She grabbed the hem of his sweater. He lifted his arms and let her take it off. She frowned at the dress shirt he wore underneath. He chuckled. How she could have missed the collar while she was kissing his neck, he didn’t know. But she was mightily offended by it now, that was for sure.

“You are so beautiful.” His voice was low and husky, barely more than a whisper.

She gave him that shy smile. The top of her chest and her cheeks turned that delicious shade of pink he loved so much. It was the same color as her nipples, which were hard and straining against her dress. His mouth watered for another taste.

“You’re beautiful, too.” She cupped his cheek. He leaned in, reveling at the feel of her soft skin against him. Although it was an innocent, and usually inconsequential touch, this felt like something substantial and important.

Not wanting to delve into that thought too deeply, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her skin tasted sweet and salty. Perfect.

He slowly slid his gaze down and then up the length of her. Heat and desire burned bright in her eyes, but there, below the surface, lay a touch of apprehension, a hint of doubt.

Something in his chest squeezed tight.

He wanted to reach out and brush his fingers along the smooth, satiny fabric of her dress. But he hesitated, unsure about what she was thinking. He lifted his hand to touch her cheek but then stopped before he made contact, his hand hovering in the air. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” She shook her head, but swallowed. Her gaze dropped to the floor. He lowered his hand down to his side.

“Talk to me, Alex. Please.” He kept the words low, quiet in the silence of the room.

She stared at the carpet for another second and then looked up at him. The anxiety in her grey eyes made his chest squeeze tighter. “I haven’t been with anybody since Kevin. I’m just a little nervous, is all.”

Her voice said there was more to it. And while part of him wanted to ignore it, just get on with things, he couldn’t. If they were going to do this, he wanted nothing between them. There would be no what ifs or regrets when the sun rose tomorrow.

He cupped her cheek. Like he’d done, she leaned into the touch, although she closed her eyes. She looked so vulnerable. “And?”

She opened her eyes. Her lips tilted up in a sad smile. “I know I’m not perfect.” She whispered the words, but kept her gaze locked with his. “My breasts are too small, my hips too narrow. I have stretch marks.” She took a deep breath. “And I know you could have your pick of women, so I’m having a bit of a hard time figuring out why you’d ever pick me.”

The ache in his chest magnified a million times, turning sharp. But the pain was quickly overtaken by anger. Because the only way she could have such specific doubts was because someone had specifically pointed out her so-called flaws. And since she hadn’t been with anyone except her asshole ex-husband, he knew exactly who to blame.

“You are exquisite.” He took her face between both of his hands, making sure she couldn’t look away. “And there is absolutely nothing wrong with your beautiful body. Anyone who looks at you and sees anything but perfection is either blind or an asshole.”

She barked out a laugh. Some of the worry in her gaze slipped away.

He brushed his lips against hers in the barest hint of a kiss. It wasn’t enough, it would never be enough. Wanting to take things further, he tilted his head, but she stepped back.

His protest died on his tongue when she grabbed the side of her dress.

Right where the zipper was hidden.

He followed the slow glide of her fingers, the soft whisper of the teeth loud in the silence. She pushed the teeny tiny straps off her shoulders. The dress slipped down her body to pool as a red silk puddle at her feet.