Page 51
“Regular comedienne. And I’m here all night.” I lick the spot behind his ear. “Hopefully.”
He stops halfway up the stairs, every muscle in his body rigid. His grip tightens under my thighs as a low growl vibrates against my skin.
“Nora.”
“Yes, Hewit?”
He turns his head, mouth close to my ear. “Keep doing that and we’re not making it to the bedroom.”
I grin. “Threat or promise?”
His laugh is dark and brief. “Both.”
Then he continues up the stairs again, faster now. By the time we reach his bedroom, my pulse is racing for entirely different reasons.
His room is sparse and orderly, with dark wood furniture and heavy blankets. Nothing decorative, just a stack of books beside the bed. The window is cracked open, letting in the night air and the distant rustle of trees moving beyond the houses.
Hewit sets me down beside the bed. Suddenly, this is real in a way kissing downstairs wasn’t, and my nerves surge.
Hewit cups my face. “You can still change your mind.”
I exhale and shake my head. “No. I’m just nervous.”
His expression softens. “So am I.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “You?”
“It’s been years, Nora. And you’re…”
“A virgin?”
His mouth tightens. “Was trying not to say it like a diagnosis.”
I smile. “Thank you.” I reach for the hem of my shirt. “But I don’t intend to be for much longer.”
Hewit catches my wrist. “Let me.”
His words send heat straight through me, and I release the fabric. His hands settle at my waist, and he slowly lifts my shirt. He doesn’t hurry as he undresses me. He watches me the whole time, making sure I’m okay, and his careful attention undoes me. The air is cool against my skin as the shirt clears my head. I’m suddenly standing in front of him in jeans and a bra, and the way his gaze drops makes my nipples tighten against the lace.
His nostrils flare.
I fight the urge to cover myself. “Hewit?”
“Give me a second.”
His voice is so raw that my nervousness loosens.
I do as he asks, then touch his chest lightly, feeling the hard muscle and the rapid thud of his heart. “Good second?”
His eyes return to mine, amber bright. “Very.”
I smile. “Then you can keep looking.”
He does.
God, he does.
And there’s nothing polite about Hewit’s attention now. His gaze travels over me slowly, lingering on the curve of my breasts, the way the bra pushes them up, the soft skin of my stomach. I feel every inch of his gaze as if he were touching me.
