He didn’t hold anything back. And she admired him for that.
Giving in to one of her many urges, she touched him. Let her f
ingers drift across his hair, testing the silky smooth strands. He sighed, his eyelids fluttering open and he smiled up at her.
“That feels good.”
Yes, yes it did. She did it again, let her fingers thread through his hair, her fingertips press against his scalp and he moaned.
Oh God, she didn’t think she could take this much longer.
Fingers trembling, she let them drift. Down across his forehead, the side of his face. Across his cheek, his nose. He smiled, the slightest curve of lips and she touched them. Just the corner of his mouth first, then she traced his upper lip. His lower lip. They parted and she let the tip of her finger sink in. Felt the gentle swipe of his tongue against it.
A strangled little noise escaped her and his hand came up. Fingers clamped around her wrist and his eyes snapped open. Quick as lightning he moved, scrambled out of her lap so he was on all fours next to her. His face in hers, she felt the warm drift of his breath, noticed the way his lids lowered, his gaze focused directly on her mouth.
As if he was about to kiss her.
“Let me, Stace.” He slid closer, his lips so close to hers she felt them move when he spoke. “Let me in.”
Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her chin up. Enough so that their mouths met, brushed against each other. They kissed, only their mouths touching, nothing else. Again and again their mouths connected. Gently, sweetly, much like the kiss he gave her in the car. Nothing like the aggressive, passionate kiss they shared in the alley.
She wanted that passionate kiss. She wanted this particular kiss as well. Every time he touched her, kissed her, looked at her, she wanted it. She wanted him.
It was crazy. Ridiculous. But she couldn’t deny it.
Without thought she reached for him. Rested her hand against his cheek, let it wander so it settled at the back of his neck. Her lips parted beneath his, waiting for him to take the initiative and he wouldn’t. He kept the kiss relatively chaste, no tongue involved. Just delicious, damp, open-mouthed kisses that were making her lose her mind.
“Eric,” she whispered against his mouth when she broke away from him.
“Yes?” He nuzzled the side of her face and she shivered.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
“I am kissing you.” He chuckled.
“I mean I want…” She stopped talking when he kissed her once more. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted his tongue. She wanted to feel him rub against her, press that hot, hard body over hers.
She wanted to feel him inside her.
“What do you want, Stace?” He whispered the words against her cheek, and she wondered if he knew she was thinking of all the things she wanted. His mouth burned a path down the side of her neck, down further along the exposed patch of her collarbone. She shuddered, her nipples puckered beneath the satin fabric of her bra and she wished he would go further.
“I want you,” she said, her voice trembling.
“As a friend?”
“As a friend and…” Her breath hitched in her throat, and she clutched one hand into a fist to keep from touching him with it.
She needed him to touch her first. Even though she’d already touched him, damn it.
“And?” He crowded her and she leaned back, so her head rested on the overstuffed arm of the couch and he was over her, still on all fours. His hands planted on either side of her head, knees on either side of her hips.
Thank God for wide couches.
“Touch me, Eric.” She arched up the slightest bit. “Please.”
He attacked her. There was no other word for it. One moment he held himself above her as if afraid he might crush her and the next he was sprawled completely over her, his weight dipping her into the cushions of the couch. His mouth fused to hers, his hips rubbing insistently against her. Stealing her breath, evaporating her thoughts. Their tongues tangled and danced and his hands were everywhere, making her shiver as they cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing against her nipples. His erect cock strained against the front of his jeans, she felt him as he nudged her belly and she reached between them. Fingers fumbled with the button at his waistband until she decided screw it and her hand dove beneath the slight gape in the front of his jeans.
And she encountered nothing but crisp, tickling hairs and smooth, hard flesh.