Page 85 of Clinically Delicious
Chapter Eighteen
Cate
His mouth moved from my lips to my jaw, trailing kisses down to my neck, and I made a sound that was definitely not dignified.
Oh God.
Oh God, his mouth.
What is he doing with his mouth?
That should be illegal. That is definitely illegal in at least three states.
His teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below my ear, and my knees actually gave out.
Completely.
Just—Nope, we’re done here; you’re on your own.
Gabriel caught me, his arm around my waist, and I felt him smile against my neck.
“You okay?” he murmured, his voice rough and amused.
“No,” I gasped. “Definitely not okay. My knees stopped working. Is that normal? That can’t be normal.”
He pulled back to look at me, and his eyes were so dark they were almost black.
“It’s normal,” he said, and then he kissed me again.
His hands slid under my shirt—oh God, his hands are under my shirt—and I felt the warmth of his palms against my skin.
This is happening.
This is actually happening. Gabriel Lyon’s hands are on my bare skin and I’m—I’m—Don’t think about it. Don’t overthink it. Just feel.
His fingers traced up my sides, slow and deliberate, and I shivered.
“Cold?” he asked against my mouth.
“No,” I breathed. “Opposite of cold. Very much the opposite.”
Smooth, Cate. Very articulate.
He smiled. I felt it against my lips, and then his hands moved higher, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts through my bra.
I gasped.
Actually gasped, like some kind of Victorian maiden who’d never been touched before.
Get it together, Cate! You’re a grown woman. You’ve done this before.
Okay, not with HIM. Not with someone who looks like THAT and touches like THAT and—Stop thinking!
His mouth moved to my collarbone, kissing, tasting, and his hands—oh God, his hands—cupped my breasts, thumbs stroking over the fabric.
“Gabriel,” I gasped, and his name came out like a prayer.
Or a plea.
