“You’re a busy guy,” she said, walking toward him slowly, clutching her hands into fists.
The overwhelming urge to reach out and touch made her edgy.
“I guess I am. Sounds like you’re busy too, though.” He stood stock still, his giant body tense and when she reached him, she gave in to her urges.
Smoothing her hands over his broad shoulders, she dug her fingers into the stiff muscles there, marveling at the solid strength she felt beneath his soft sweater. His hands immediately went to her waist, spanning it with splayed fingers and she stepped closer.
“I am busy. I never take any time to indulge myself.”
“Me either,” he murmured.
She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, inhaled his spicy masculine scent. He relaxed beneath her touch, his fingers slowly stroking her from waist to hips.
“Maybe we should remedy that by indulging in each other,” she whispered against his throat, her lips pressing against the warm skin. His pulse pounded beneath her mouth, matching the rhythm of her own wildly beating heart. Anticipation filled her.
It had been too long since she’d been with a man, she hadn’t lied about that. But secretly, she was glad. It would only heighten tonight’s experience with Nate, make it that much more intense.
That much more delicious.
Releasing his grip on her, he took her hand in his and headed toward the hallway. “Come on.”
Desire thrummed through her veins as she followed him, his long fingers wrapped so tightly around hers. His touch made her heart skip. His closeness made her tremble. No man had ever made her feel this way and it surprised her, threw her off balance.
Normally she’d be leery, afraid of her out of control emotions. The old Janelle would’ve bolted rather than take a chance.
Tonight, there was no way she was leaving. She had a feeling it would be an evening she would never forget.
Nate’s room was dark, though the blinds on the window were cracked, allowing thin slivers of pale moonlight into the room. He led her inside, stopping at the foot of the giant bed and drawing her close.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured, his sensuous mouth dipping close to hers.
“So why are you?” He was right. She really shouldn’t be doing this either. If he backed out, she’d feel like an utter fool.
He moved closer, his breath fanning across her mouth and she tilted her head. His lids were lowered, his eyes dark and sexy as they watched her. “Because I want to.”
Not allowing her to reply, his mouth found hers, soft and damp. She parted for him immediately, their tongues meeting, tasting.
Janelle moaned into his mouth, unable to control her reaction. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she snuggled closer, absorbing his heat, desperate to feel bare skin. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, pressing her fingers into the heated skin of his firm back, stroking his smooth flesh.
A shudder moved through him and she let her hands wander around to his front, her fingers skimming the rippled planes of his stomach. Breaking their kiss, she whispered, “Take it off.”
Nate didn’t hesitate. He yanked the shirt off with one hand, tossing it onto the floor and hauling her back into him.
She rested her hands against his chest, testing his muscles, brushing her fingers through the smattering of dark hair that grew there. She always thought she preferred a smooth chest, but there was something so masculine, so sexy about feeling the crisp curling hairs beneath her fingertips.
The man could kiss, too. The things he did with his lips, his tongue. Oh, and his hands. Those hands were everywhere, searching, smoothing over her backside, sliding up her waist, cupping her breasts. Her nipples ached for his touch, ached even more for his mouth and she moved against him, suddenly restless.
“Let’s get rid of this,” he said, tugging on the flimsy fabric of her dress.
Stepping away from his embrace, she reached behind for the zipper and tugged it down as far as it could go. She slipped the straps of her dress off first one shoulder, then the other, teasing him.
Referring to old dance moves. So completely unoriginal.
Glancing up, her gaze met his and she realized he didn’t seem to think her moves were unoriginal whatsoever. He watched her with passion-filled eyes, his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Her gaze trailed downward, taking in the unmistakable bulge straining against his fly and she stood straighter, allowing the front of her dress to fall forward.
Without a bra to prote
ct them, her nipples puckered in the cool night air and under the heated gaze of the man who watched her. He sucked in a loud breath, his fingers flexing and a wave of power washed over her. That she could make this strong, controlled man react to her in such a way.