Don’t judge a book by its cover. This book is HOT!
Every girl knew the rule. Without exception, curtail the extracurricular activities, keeping the hands in appropriate places, lips only on neck, cheek and mouth. Mouth. I so wanted his on mine. I trusted my resolve, knowing I’d hate myself in the morning if I gave into exploding passion threatening to burst through the seams of my self-control.
“Tell me about it. You’ve very comfortable.”
He chuckled. “Comfortable? You have a delightful way of expressing yourself. But I think I know what you mean. You fit just right in my arms. Not an inch too big … not an inch too small.”
“You know that we’re slow dancing to techno, right?” As I lifted my face to stare into his eyes, the scruff of his beard grazed my temple.
“Is there music?” His lips were moist on my ear.
My finger traced his jaw line. “There sure is … booty music.”
He pressed his forehead to mine.
“You don’t rock out, do you …”
“I used to.”
I pulled my head back. “Not anymore?”
He drew me back in. “Mmm. I like dancing with you. It doesn’t matter what kind of music, as long as I can hold you close. Do you come here often?”
“When the spirit moves me.”
“I like your spirit … and your moves. You’re a good dancer. Nice and smooth … and confident. You’ve got it going on.”
“Dancing is the best way to release anxiety, express myself. I guess you could call it a homeopathic remedy.”
He tilted his head, gazing directly into my eyes. “Anxiety? What do you have to be anxious about?”
“You’d be surprised.” My chin dropped onto his chest.
“We’ll have to work on those anxiety issues, but I tell you, I do like your style of expression.”
“I can express even better if I’m provoked.”
His hands slid softly over my back, while his lips caressed my throat. “So, what does it take to provoke you?”
“It’s a secret,” I whispered into his ear.
“You’re a tease.”
“I guess you’re just going to have to find out for yourself … in due time.”
“How much time are we talking here?”
“That all depends …”
I slid my hands over his shoulders, gripping the muscles beneath my palms, massaging, fingertips drifting up the sides of his neck, aching for another trek through his hair. Then weaving my arms beneath his, I explored the width of his broad back, fingers running across his shoulder blades, sliding down his spine, drawing warm circles, urging him deep into me. Well, in my imagination. I couldn’t let the feeling slip away without a taste of what it might be like. It would be good. So good. But I wasn’t going there.
Still, swaying on tippy toes, I lifted my head which had been pressed against his soft sweater, and let my mouth do its thing, up and down the side of his neck. I knew my lips were plush, and felt them melt into his smooth skin. Desire surging, I began to nibble.
I felt him tense, which made my mouth work harder, wander to his cheek. So in tune, we each drew back, so the only intimacy was in our eyes that locked. My lids felt so heavy they fell into a slow blink without my approval, creating what had to be a total hop-into-bed-with-me look. His eyes did the same, then clung to mine, so sexy, so determined, reaching for my soul. With his fingertips, he stroked my cheek, positioned my face, and with a dreamy gaze he angled his head, moving in for the kill, his breath on my lips so inviting.