“How do you know if you’ve never tried?”
Once they crossed that line they could never go back.
He knew that whatever happened, nothing would be the same. There would be twists and turns and complications, and not just between the two of them. There was their wider friendship group to consider, but none of it seemed to matter anymore.
He could no longer remember why he was holding back.
Slowly, he lowered his head, his gaze locked on hers.
Time was suspended, the intense, fierce chemistry dancing around them like flames.
He was brutally aroused, so hard it was difficult to focus on anything.
“I don’t think I can wait around while you wrestle with your conscience.” She rose on her toes and kissed him. The touch of her mouth sent a shock wave of pleasure through him and exploded the final layers of his self-control. He pulled her in, his senses saturated by desire and raw lust. Her damp clothes clung to her body, molding to the dips and curves. He closed his hands over the adherent fabric of her skirt, easing it upward until it was high on her thighs, until damp fabric revealed damp skin, until he was so aroused that he was tempted to skip the part where he undressed her and take her right there against the nearest wall.
But this was Paige.
Paige.
She’d been off-limits for so long it was ingrained in him to be careful. His hands were anchored by the contradictions swirling in his head. He wanted to take her instantly, and he wanted to take his time. He wanted to feast, and he wanted to savor. To rip off her clothes, to unpeel them slowly. The only thing that was clear to him was that he wanted all of her. All of her.
He felt her hands on his shirt, dealing with each button with the same deft fluency as she stripped him to the waist. She pushed the shirt away from his shoulders and trailed her hands over his shoulder.
He closed his eyes, absorbing the brush of her hands over his skin.
“You’re strong.” She whispered the words, and he opened his mouth to contradict her because he knew that if he’d been strong he wouldn’t be doing this, but then her fingers moved lower and he caught his breath.
“Paige—”
“Unless you’re going to tell me you want me, don’t speak.”
He felt the soft, slow slide of her lips across his jaw and down his neck. She began a slow descent, each seductive brush of her lips sending lightning bolts of pleasure through his body. She was in no hurry, lingering and tasting before she moved lower. And lower.
He ached with need, so lost in the sensations she spun that it took him a moment to realize she’d opened his zipper.
He tried to speak, to tell her that she couldn’t do that, but she drew him into the delicious warmth of her mouth and the groan that emerged from his throat blocked the words. His ability to think left him next, his brain wiped by the lavish, clever strokes of her tongue. It was the most erotic, intimate experience of his life, and it was only when he realized he was so close it was all going to be over in moments that he finally managed to pull away.
He lifted Paige to her feet, taking back control in a single resolute move that made her gasp.
“You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
“Does this feel as if I’m changing my mind?” He curved his arm around her and pulled her hard against him, leaving no room for doubt. Her eyes were huge, shining luminous blue under the soft, shadowy lights of his apartment.
“Jake—” The urgency of her tone was all he needed to hear.
With his free hand he cupped her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin against his palm and the silk of her hair teasing the tips of his fingers. “Patience.”
“I’m not patient. I don’t want to wait.”
“It will be worth waiting for. Trust me.” He felt her quiver of anticipation and lowered his head to take her mouth. All the reasons not to touch her had melted away, and he kept his mouth on hers as he slid his hands into her hair, his fingers stroking through soft silk and droplets of rain. His thoughts dimmed, the world receded, his senses steeped in texture and scent. Smooth dark chocolate and silk, tropical flowers and summer rain.
She was trembling against him, her fingers stroking int
o his hair as her kiss blended perfectly with his. There was no awkwardness. No fumbling. It was as if someone had carefully choreographed each move. He gathered her closer and felt her hands slide down to his shoulders, felt her fingers press hard as if she was afraid that if she didn’t hold on he might disappear.
Easing away slightly she took his hand and placed it on her breast, and he felt the lush fullness and the thrust of her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt.
He held her gaze as he undressed her, stripping off the damp layers until there was nothing between them but cool air and the delicious shiver of expectation.