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“Holy hell,” he said as he took in me and my flirty outfit.
“You like my new top?” I asked. Gazing at him through my lashes, I knew he did. He didn’t look like he wanted to savor. He looked like he wanted to gobble me up.
“I love it, but it’s far too sexy.” He gave me a firm look. “You’re not to wear it again outside this apartment.”
“All right.” My lips curved with feminine satisfaction. I didn’t care for anyone to look at me like he did.
“How do I get it off without tearing it? It looks delicate.”
Delicate like I was now, he meant without saying it outright.
His expression revealing his concern, he carefully placed his large hands on my shoulders as if afraid he might break me. The heat of his skin seeped into me from the top of my body to my toes.
“Just lift it over my head.”
I raised my arms in the air, and he grabbed the hem of my camisole, whisking it away. My hair settled softly around my naked shoulders and heavier curls spilled down my back. But I wasn’t cold. The approval in his eyes as he looked at me made me feel like I had the sun shining inside me.
“Barry, touch me.” My breasts were full, the tips tight and tingly. “I need you to. I’ve never wanted anyone more.”
“I need you too. Desperately.” He framed my face, gazing deeply into my eyes, and I felt his soul touch mine before he lowered his head and brought our mouths together for a slow and searing kiss.
“Wow,” I said when he broke the connection.
“Wow is right,” he said. “Your lips are perfection.”
“Your turn.”
My toes curling from his kiss and his praise, I started to work on his shirt buttons. My teeth clamping my bottom lip, I got one button undone and then another. I reveled in each additional inch of lightly bronzed skin that was revealed, but I got frustrated. I was so eager that my fumbling fingers made my progress too slow.
“Let me,” he rumbled low.
Raising his hands in the air, he lowered his head so I could remove his shirt the same way he’d done for me When he straightened, his thick hair settled around his shoulders like mine, but that was where the similarity ended. With his shirt off, he was a masterpiece of masculine perfection, his skin smooth everywhere except for his forearms, which were lightly dusted with fine black hair.
“Addy, don’t just look. Touch me.”
He placed one of his hands across my lower back, and the other along my upper arm. His skin was warm, his hand so large, the one on my back spanned the width of it, and the other covered my arm from my elbow nearly to my shoulder.
“I don’t know where to start first,” I whispered.
Continuing to drink him in, I marveled at how handsome Barry was, and how wonderful it felt to be held by him so tenderly.
“Start wherever you want to,con bu?m c?a tôi.”
His deepened voice was a like a felt-tipped mallet, and I was a gong. Every nerve ending vibrating with longing, my hand shook as I reached for a glossy lock of his hair. Tracing it from his temple to his shoulder, I gazed into his gentle eyes. My heart rose to fill mine. This was so much more than simply sex for me.
“Your hair is gorgeous,” I said reverently. “It always was. You always were, but now all of you is perfect.”
A yearning awoke within me, a soul-deep one.
I wished I were better. That I had the power to rewind time. Most of all, I wanted to correct my mistake with him, but I hadn’t known then like I knew now that my salvation wasn’t in planning. It was this, seizing each precious moment we were given and making it the best.
“I’m not perfect.” His eyes twinkled like brown and copper stars. “I’m not looking for perfect.”
“What are you looking for?” I whispered, wishing on his starry eyes that I was it.
“I found what I needed a long time ago.”
Me, he meant. The girl I was. She was still here, wanting to be found, though broken.
