Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight 2)

“You didn’t let me finish.” He placed a finger over her lips and he could tell she was tempted to bite it. “You’d be very easy to fall for—for any man who wasn’t me.”

Chapter Four

Kim blinked. Okay, she hadn’t expected him to say that.

Her ego wasn’t throbbing either. Because why should she care if he didn’t have any interest in falling in love with her? She should be jumping for hormone-fueled joy. Instead she felt…hurt.

Clearly she’d been out of the dating game a few brain cells too long.

“I need another drink.” She snatched the bottle of Cristal and decided to forego her glass for the oh-so-classy choice of drinking premium champagne from the bottle. And then, if that wasn’t enough, dribbling approximately one-eighth of the bottle on her top. “Christ.” She fumbled the bottle, nearly dropping it, her sluggish brain centering on the curious reaction of her nipples.

The one that had gotten soaked in bubbly pebbling up made sense. But the other deciding to play twinsie was disheartening, to say the least.

“Hey there. Easy.” Michael wrapped his long fingers around the neck of the bottle and damn if her traitorous clit didn’t send up a warning throb.

She was about to do something stupid unless she somehow managed to get hold of herself before she grabbed hold of him.

So…yeah, stupid was her best guess.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, shutting her eyes. Perhaps if she blocked him from view she would lessen her chances of acting in a way not befitting a newly self-aware woman of almost forty who didn’t want to remember that she knew better. “I owe you a bottle of champagne.”

“Why? Because you spilled a little bit?” He ran his fingertip along the V-neck of her sweater to blot up the liquid and she sucked in a breath. “Or because you drank straight from the bottle?” He tugged it out of her now boneless hand and tipped it to his own mouth, taking a long swig that caused his throat to ripple. Then he licked his lips and smiled. “I consider that a bonus. Tastes even sweeter now with your lipstick on the rim.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.” She shifted, intending to turn away, but he snagged his finger in her neckline and pulled her closer. Her gaze lifted warily to his. Already the champagne was starting to do its job. If she kept drinking, she’d leapfrog from “questionable decision” straight to “regret this tomorrow” territory.

And it was getting harder to recall why.

Speaking of hard, the thick length against her belly also qualified. All she had to do was reach down and free all that gorgeous flesh and they’d have a party for two. He’d distract her from her thoughts about his disturbing draw on her and what was going on with Brad and Sara. When he was inside her, she couldn’t obsess about finding a new place to live and all the ways her perfectly comfortable—if occasionally itchy—life was probably going to change.

Not sleeping with him didn’t make sense. He tempted her in more ways than she could explain. After all, that’s why she had originally waited for him after class. Besides, no one had to know. Not her teacher. Not Brad or Sara or Gary or any of her exes who would shake their head at how little she’d learned.

“I have an idea.” He continued to rub the V of her sweater, indirectly touching her skin. She tried not to shudder but every movement tightened the fabric over her breasts. “Do you trust me?”

She swallowed. “If I say no, can I take the bottle

of bubbly with me to bed in the guest room?”

Rather than looking chagrined, he set aside the champagne and laughed. “You can do whatever you like. I don’t expect anything.”

“No? Well, there’s a first.”

“I can’t say I won’t be disappointed but that’s not the same as expecting sex.”

“So what’s the trusting-you thing about if you’re cool with me heading off to bed?”

His laughter dimmed into a sober expression that increased the sensation of locusts swarming in her abdomen. Big, buzzing ones. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You can’t be serious. Besides, I already saw yours.” She’d even drawn it to scale in charcoal.

His smile sent warmth curling through her midsection, quieting the crazed locusts. “But I haven’t seen you.”

She couldn’t help snorting her disbelief at this conversation. Who was this guy? Since when did a man settle for mutual stripteases instead of—

“You’re right. I made a promise. No sex, but that doesn’t mean you can’t show me what you like,” he said gently, running his fingertip over the lips she’d yet to close after his request. “And maybe, if you’re interested, I could do the same. In case you ever change your mind about the no-sex thing.”

The questions fell away. His suggestion had invoked a weird humming in her blood, one that had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the earnestness in those midnight eyes.

She stepped back and tugged her sweater over her head, following it with her bra. His swift intake of breath made her fingers falter as she finished getting completely undressed. She studiously avoided glancing Michael’s way until she couldn’t stifle her curiosity any longer.