Page 25

Whoops. I forgot how to speak. Not like it matters, since my mouth is suddenly so dry. Little bolts of electricity race through me, lighting me up when I really wish they wouldn’t. This is all complicated enough, for Pete’s sake. I don’t need hormones getting in the way on top of everything else.

“I kind of like my personal space,” I croak, trying to laugh it off and failing miserably. Why does there have to be so much of him? Why does he have to be so overwhelming? It’s not fair.

Just like it’s not fair when he leans over me to look into the bowl full of custard waiting for the bread to be dipped. “You don’t put cinnamon in it?”

Is he serious? I barely remember what cinnamon is right now, too overwhelmed by him to think. “Oh. Uh . . .”

“It’s right up here.” He reaches past me to open a cabinet door, and that’s when it happens.

His torso brushes against my arm as he reaches across.

A small thing. No big deal, right?

Wrong. Like a million percent wrong.

That single bit of contact is all it takes for the desire bubbling in my core to boil over. It’s so intense it makes me gasp, trembling as he pulls the cinnamon from the cabinet and sets it on the counter before slowly turning back to me.

I never had a chance, did I?

I sure don’t now, lost in his penetrating stare, sinking deeper and deeper into pure, unfiltered need with every furious heartbeat. He’s so much, too much, but instead of backing away in fear, something else happens. Something completely unexpected and most definitely unlike me.

Fuck it. You only live once, right?

It takes standing on my tiptoes, but I manage to close the distance between us and press my lips to his. I barely know what I’ve done until I’ve done it. Until I can taste the salty sweat lingering there and the smell of his skin and his sweat wrap me in a fog almost as thick as his arms.

Arms that wrap around me and pull me close before he turns me until my back is against the counter and he’s holding me in place with his warm, rock-hard body.

I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this! Sliding my hands over his shoulders and down his back while he holds me close, so close I feel his heart pounding against my chest while his tongue slides into my mouth and sets me on fire.

Years’ worth of pent-up need almost takes my legs out from under me, but he holds me up, demanding I accept his kiss. The stroking of his tongue against mine is enough to make my toes curl. Somebody is whimpering—oh, it’s me. Helpless and breathless and melting.

When I gently run my nails down his back, he groans into my mouth and makes my heart beat faster than ever. I want to hear that sound again. There’s something sexy and almost dangerous about it.

One of his hands cups the back of my head, and I go with it when he tilts it slightly, angling my mouth against his the way he wants it. My hard nipples brush against his chest, and the sensation is like lightning ripping through me, turning my blood into fire, melting me from the inside out. I’ve never been this defenseless or felt this alive. And I have never wanted anything more.

That’s why, when he pulls back with a breathless gasp, I can’t stifle a disappointed groan. Just a minute ago I was afraid to look him in the eye. Now I stare up at him, because there must be an answer somewhere in those green orbs. Some clue of what he’s thinking and feeling.

I don’t find what I’m looking for, let’s just put it that way. “Well,” he chuckles before blowing out a sigh through pursed lips I want to kiss again. I want to kiss them until they fall off his face. “That’s a nice appetizer, but I could go for some actual food.”

I guess it’s as good a way to change the subject as any, right? My chest is still heaving with every breath when I tell him, “I’ll get started.”

Only how am I supposed to cook when most of the blood in my body has rushed south? I am absolutely throbbing down there, so much it’s almost painful. I’m soaking wet too—I feel the way the crotch of my panties sticks to my skin as I heat up the pan and drop a pat of butter onto its surface. The butter quickly melts and starts to bubble, making me think of the havoc going on between my legs.

So this is what it’s like to be totally overwhelmed by lust. The sort of thing I’ve only ever written about. Now I understand in a way I couldn’t before.

Which only makes me wonder what else there is for me to understand. There’s an entire world I don’t have the first clue about, and this man wants to introduce me to it. Would I be stupid to turn him down?

By the time we sit down to eat, my mind is made up. He’s showered now, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans that do nothing to help me forget the body underneath them. God, I can still feel him on me.

The thing is, I want to feel more. Skin on skin. I think it’s time to see how far I can go and whether reality lives up to my books.

“Okay.” At first I’m too shy to look at him, so I stare down at my plate instead.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Oh, great. What a fantastic way to put it. And I’m supposed to be a writer? “What I mean is, I want to take you up on your offer. If the offer still stands,” I add quickly.

“Oh, it still stands.” He sets down his knife and fork, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “All it took was one little kiss?”