Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell

Calling upon every ounce of courage she possessed, she stretched, tentatively touched her mouth to his, hoping to show him as words couldn’t convey just how much she wanted him.

Would he push her away? Tell her she was crazy? That he couldn’t want a woman who was more brains than beauty, who was so the opposite of the women he usually dated?

She tasted the soda on his tongue, tasted the masculinity that was pure Blake. Eyes wide, she deepened the kiss. He let her set the pace, but his rapidly hardening body was far from immune to her kisses.

He pushed her into a darkened corner of the ballroom, lifted her chin. “I want you, Darby. Tell me you want me to make love to you because you want me and not because you’re drunk.”

She barely registered when the music stopped, the lights brightened, and Mandy spoke into a microphone.

“I’m not drunk.” She pulled back, smiled softly up at him, her fingers twisted in the hair at his nape. Lord, how she loved his hair. How she loved him. “I want you. Take me to our room and make love to me.”

Blake’s black eyes narrowed, his body tensed, and Darby wondered if she’d made a mistake. Had she lost him forever with her boldness? In admitting so much of her heart? He’d said he wanted her, too. Surely he wouldn’t be frightened away by her honesty in telling him what she wanted? Namely him.

Or was Blake like Trey? Were his words loosely spoken during make-out sessions? Uncertainty flooded her. What if he didn’t really want her? If he’d realized she could never be good enough? What if they made love and she couldn’t please him? What if he decided he liked her better for her brains than her body? She wanted Blake to want both. The whole package. All of her.

Please, God, let him love her.

Because, no matter what the cost, no matter what the consequences, tonight she was laying her heart on the line. Because she didn’t want to be just Blake’s business partner or his friend. She wanted him. As her lover. As the man who wanted to share his life with her. Always.

If they weren’t meant to be, she didn’t want to go through life without knowing, without having taken that chance at grasping her dream.

Because in that moment her biggest fear was never taking that risk with Blake, never knowing what if…?

His jaw shifted. “You’re sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” She was. She didn’t want to continue pretending that she didn’t love him when she did. She didn’t want to pretend her heart didn’t race when he walked into a room. She didn’t want to pretend not to want to spend every moment of her life with him. Unable to guard her heart, she stared at him, willing him not to hurt her. “Please want me, too.”

“I do. More than you’d believe.” He cupped her face, kissed her so thoroughly she thought she might melt. He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go, Dilly.”

“About time, City Boy,” she quipped back, practically running to keep up with his long strides out of the ballroom.

Nervous excitement fluttered in Darby’s belly.

Tonight she was going to give herself to Blake and take whatever he was willing to give of himself.

The elevator door slid shut, locking out the world. He stared straight ahead, not looking at her.

“Blake?”

“Not now, Darby,” he barked, startling her into taking a step back.

> She wilted. This had all been a bit of a fantasy. One that she should have known better than to believe. “You’ve changed your mind?”

He turned, scorched her with his hot black eyes. “Unless you want me to wrap those long legs of yours around my waist and take you right here in the elevator, and the world be damned, I advise you to stand over there, look pretty, and be quiet.”

Her lips rounded in a surprised “O”. Why had she doubted him? Been so quick to think he’d changed his mind? That she’d be lacking in his eyes?

She wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was a grown woman who knew the man she wanted and was wanted back by that man. She wouldn’t doubt him again.

She took a step closer to him, displaying a smile on her face and a great deal of leg.

Blake shut the hotel room door, taking Darby in his arms immediately. She tasted good. Like a tall drink of water—and he was a man dying of thirst.

If the elevator hadn’t dinged that they’d arrived at their floor the moment it had, they likely wouldn’t have gotten out.

Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging him closer, urging him to kiss her more deeply. Her body squirmed against his, pushing him to the edge of sanity.

When her tongue slid between his lips and into the recesses of his mouth he fell. Deep. Hard. Swiftly. Fell into an abyss that was only him and Darby and the intense passion burning between them.