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He grasped her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. His breath left his lungs, and he looked into her startled gaze. He lowered his mouth to hers. He wanted to teach her a lesson. To show her he was a fully functioning man. He tried to go slow. God help him he did, but it had been so long. The instant his lips touched hers, he was gone. Like a match to gasoline, it rushed across his skin and he was consumed with his burning desire for her.
He took advantage of her gasp and swept his tongue inside her warm, wet mouth. A shudder moved down his spine, and his muscles shook. While he wanted to absorb her into his flesh, to eat her up with one bite, she stood completely still within his grasp, neither protesting nor participating. He had to let her go, but just as he was about to end it, her tongue touched his, and there was no stopping him.
Her wet, warm mouth tasted so good. Like honey and sex and everything missing in his life. Her hands moved to his shoulders and her fingers squeezed his muscles through the thin cotton of his shirt. She smelled like flowers and warm woman and all the things he'd been denying himself. He soaked it all in. The taste of her mouth and the warm touch of her hands. The scent of her skin. The desire rushing across his skin spread down his back and between his legs, squeezing his testicles and burning him alive. And he wanted it. He wanted to feel it again. All of it. For the first time in a very long time, he didn't try and control it or shove it away. He let lust grab ahold of his insides even as it pounded the air around him. He shoved his fingers into the sides of her hair and cupped her face. His hands shook as he barely controlled the urge to unbuckle her sweater and fill his palms with her heavy breasts.
Her slick tongue touched his and mated, and he could feel her pulse beating beneath his thumb. Their mouths opened and closed as he fed her kisses. The woman he held in his hands was every bit as turned on as he was.
But he had to stop. He didn't know her well enough to know for certain she wouldn't turn psycho on him. He didn't think she was crazy, but she wasn't worth the risk. No woman was. There was one thing he had to do before he let her go.
He took her hand from his shoulder and slipped it down the front of his chest. The warmth of her touch heated his skin through his T-shirt. His hand pressed hard against the back of hers, flattening her palm against his hard muscles. Then he slid her hand down. Slowly down his sternum and abdomen. And it was torture. Slow torture that was so sweet he ached. He moved her hand lower across his hard belly to the waistband of his jeans.
A rough moan escaped his throat, and he pulled back just far enough to look into her face. His gaze stared into hers, watching her liquid brown eyes as he slid her hand down his button fly and pressed her palm against his erection. He locked his knees to keep from falling. He was extremely hard, and a dull throb pulled at his testicles and tugged at his gut.
"I think that should answer any further questions," he said, his voice thick with lust.
Kate licked her lips. "What?"
"I can get it up." Then he did one of the most difficult things he'd done in a very long time. With his body urging him to throw her down and get medieval, he dropped her hand and stepped back. "Anything else you want to know?"
She shook her head, and her eyes began to clear. "No. I don't… I…" Her cheeks turned a bright red, and she pressed her fingers to her bottom lip, as if it was numb. "I better… go." She pointed toward the other room. Then she turned and walked from the kitchen. Her boot heels beat a rapid tap-tap on the hardwood floors as she went.
Anger and frustration and regret pulled him in three different directions. One told him she deserved it. The other urged him to jump her bones, while the other told him he'd been an ass and he should chase after her and apologize. He heard the door close, and he shut his eyes and pressed his palm hard against his erection.
Damn.
The sound of her SUV reached him inside the house, and he glanced out the kitchen window as she shot down his driveway, his security lights chasing after her. He was so turned on he felt like he was going to burst. Or smash something with his fists. There had to be more to his life than this. More than living out here alone in his big empty house, dreaming and fantasizing about a woman with red hair and deep brown eyes. This was no way to live.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was thirty-six. He wanted more.
The telephone rang, and he took a deep breath. He glanced at the Seattle number on the caller ID and picked up the cordless receiver on the fourth ring.
"Hey Louisa," he said and walked from the kitchen.
"I thought you were going to call us tonight."
"It's early." The hardwood was cool beneath his feet as he moved through the house, past the big stone fireplace, to the windows that looked out onto the lake. "Where's Amelia?"
"Right here."
"Put her on." There was a pause, and his two-year-old daughter got on the line.
"Hello," she said in her tiny voice that made his chest get tight. She was one of the things that he wanted a lot more of in his life.
"Hey baby girl. What are you doing?"
"Wiggles."
"Are you watching your Wiggles show?"
There was lots of breathing, then she said, "Yeah."
"Did you have dinner yet?"
"Yeah."
"What did you eat?"
"I ate noodles."
