Page 33 of Stirring Attraction (Second Shot 2)
He turned to the woman he’d nearly kissed in that room not long before the interruption. Years ago, she’d given him a kiss that promised to bring him back desperate for another. The memory of that moment in his truck had pushed him to achieve more and more. So that when he came back, he’d have something to offer her. A hero for a husband if she still wanted him. A solid foundation that would allow her to follow her heart’s desire after so many years of caring for her mother.
He formed a fist with his right hand. He couldn’t give her those things now. But she hadn’t asked for a hero. Before they’d been interrupted, she’d demanded a kiss. And he didn’t want to wait another year, another month, or another day for that offer to come around again.
“Lily.”
She lifted her chin. Her grip had relaxed, but she kept her fingers wrapped around the sink’s edge. The position left her chest thrust out and her full breasts pressed against her shirt. Years ago, he’d known how to kiss her, how to touch her, and how to love her. Now, he didn’t have a clue. But he suspected one kiss wouldn’t be enough.
“You can call me whatever you want. Boyfriend. Bodyguard. I don’t care as long as you kiss me. Now. And, honey, I’m not—”
Lily’s body fell against his and it no longer mattered that he hadn’t added “waiting a year” to the end of his declaration. She’d moved so fast that he hadn’t seen her push off from the counter surrounding the sink.
Her hands ran over his chest, up to his shoulders, and down his arms. Her fingers linked with his as her body pressed close. He groaned as she rose to her tiptoes and her breasts brushed his chest.
We should have gotten naked first.
But then her lips pressed against his and he forgot all about T-shirts. Sure, her breasts remained front and center in his mind as she drew closer . . . until her lips parted and her tongue touched his.
Lily.
His body responded as if hopeful she might kiss him lower. But they weren’t there yet. Not even close.
He pulled his hands free from hers. He had to touch her. Now. His palms glided up her arms, over her long-sleeve T-shirt to her shoulders, and down her back. Her left leg lifted and wrapped around his waist.
Be a gentleman and help her.
He placed a palm under her thigh, guiding it higher and higher. Maybe he couldn’t fire a gun. But his damaged hand had no trouble slipping under the seam of her panties. She’d left her thong at home today. And though he was tempted to check and see if her underwear matched her dark red nails, he couldn’t tear his lips away from hers.
He wanted to stay right here, lost in her mouth and the familiar feel of her body rocking against him. Let the outside world fade away. To hell with what he should or shouldn’t do.
Like coming home to stay.
She moaned against his mouth as his fingers explored the blond curls between her legs. And the last hold on his control slipped away.
Without breaking their kiss, he guided her back until the
sink was at her back. Then he lifted her up and pressed her legs wide. She, in turn, released him and rested her hands on the vanity’s edge. She was open, ready, and kissing him like she never wanted to let him go. The desire to take her, claim her, make her his again threatened to overwhelm.
Not in a fucking bathroom.
Hell, if he took her right here against the sink or with her back to the walls, the sheetrock beneath would probably give out. But he didn’t need to take out a wall to end their visit to the bathroom with a bang.
He held her waist with one hand as his right drew small circles over her inner thigh. His fingers slipped back under her panties. With her lips parted, his thumb found the spot that would drive her straight into the kind of bliss that would leave her screaming—
“More!” she cried, pulling back from his kiss.
He ran his thumb back and forth, paying attention to the way her hips rocked against his fingers. He ignored the cramping in his hand. He didn’t need all of his fingers for this. He just needed to pay attention. A good orgasm was in the details. If he listened to her response, the soft moans, the familiar words, altered his delivery . . .
“Oh . . . my . . . ”
He stole a glance at her face. Lips parted, eyes closed, head thrown back, she looked as if she was lost in pleasure. And I put her there. Satisfaction swelled along with another part of his body that would require attention later. After. Right now . . .
Her long ponytail teased the faucet as her back arched and her breasts thrust higher in the air. One of these days, he was going to strip off her long-sleeve top and touch every damn inch of her.
“Now! Now!” she screamed.
His gaze dropped lower as her bottom lifted off the vanity’s edge. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her legs splayed and open to his touch. He felt her tighten around the fingers he’d slipped inside her as the climax took hold.
“Yes,” she hissed.
