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“My mama raised me right. And you have them on every wooden surface in this room. Even if my mama hadn’t raised me right, I’d have to be an idiot not to have noticed that it was important to you.”
She fell back on him, delighted with his answer. Back when they’d been sharing cups of coffee, he’d teased her about the little things that she’d noticed. Only he noticed little things, too.
His hand moved to hold her face. It was cold, like his lips had been. Then his fingers moved a little and his forefinger glided along the back of her ear and his thumb played with her earlobe. She shivered. Her ears were a favorite. A secret place few men ever discovered and where a little attention could almost always make her weak kneed.
And she realized what Jason’s attention could mean, both tonight and after they’d had time to get to know all of each other’s secret places. He would pay attention. He would react. Their future would be one of learning about each other and applying that learning. Of discovering.
She deepened the kiss, starting their future by exploring the reaches of his mouth. She ran her tongue along the ridges of his teeth, feeling the bumps and the grooves. She scooted forward on the couch, her hands first resting on his shoulders, then moving down his arms and along his chest.
Jason didn’t move anything other than the light pressure of his fingers on her ears, but he wasn’t passive. She could tell that he was letting her investigate, giving her the space she needed to understand. At some signal she didn’t even know she had made, his other hand moved up her back, encouraging her onto his lap.
She went eagerly, yanking at his shirt in the process for access to his skin. Friday night, she hadn’t had the chance to explore his skin. She hadn’t had the chance to explore anything. She pulled up at the hem, pressing her lips along his body as each last bit of skin was revealed.
“Hey,” he said as she pulled his shirt over his head and was looking at him again. He ran a hand over the curves of her head, cupping her nape and holding her close to him, but far enough away that she couldn’t kiss him again.
His eyes were soft, caring and warm. In them she saw her reflection, and it was like looking at herself in candlelight. Flattering and loving. In those eyes, she was near perfect. In those eyes, she was enough—and never too much.
“Hey,” she said with an answering smile.
“Am I staying the night?”
“Do you want to?”
“Hell, yes.” His fingers tightened on the back of her neck, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to know that the man she was going to spend the night with worked with his hands for a living. He had great hands. He made things with his hands.
He was going to make her come with those hands.
And other things.
She giggled.
“Did you just giggle?”
“Yes. I think I did.”
“I love it when you giggle. When you giggle, I feel like that part of you that’s normally hidden behind numbers and formulas is bubbling forward.”
She twitched her lips and raised an eyebrow. Not quite a scowl, but close. “Those numbers and algorithms are a part of me, too.”
“I know. And I like them. But if you bring a protractor to bed, I’m going to say something.”
“Better and safer than a compass.”
He looked confused for a moment, then must have realized she meant the geometry tool for drawing circles, rather than the hiking tool that would tell them which way was north. She could tell the moment when the correct image hit his mind’s eye, because he burst out laughing. “Well, you’ve got me there.”
Then he kissed her, and it was his turn to explore her. His hands started out slow at first, continuing to linger on her ears and her head and her neck. Then, as she moaned and pushed into him and shifted around on his lap looking for more, he shifted, quickly enough that she didn’t notice the change in the balance of power.
And then she was on her back, the pleasant weight of him pressing her against her couch cushions. His mouth was on her neck, both firm and gentle at the same time. His palm was on her breast, his fingers brushing against her nipples.
He smelled good. Like soap and shampoo and the hair gel she remembered from last night. And a little bit of sweat from their short hike. He always smelled a little bit like sweat, as if he’d been working with his body.
