“Do you want to talk about your dad?”
“Not even a little. Do you want to talk about your interview?”
“Nope.”
His hand lowered to her thigh, slowly gathering the soft suede of her skirt. “How’s your knee.”
“It hurts.”
“I can put some ice on it for you.”
She looked at him with a knowing smirk. Swiping her glass off the table, she sat back, knees cocked open in invitation. He reached into the ice bucket and fished out a cube, pressing it to the area of her knee that bore a slight bruise.
Her skin was hot, melting the ice as he dragged it upward. Her lashes lowered as he followed her inner thigh, his hand disappearing under her skirt.
“I meant what I said at the elevator.”
She looked at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes heavy. “I didn’t say no.”
“So is that a yes?”
Her brow twitched and her gaze never left his. She scooted lower, only opening her mouth to sip her wine. She was as sexy as he remembered—more so. Adulthood suited her.
Nudging the coffee table back, he lowered to the carpet and fit himself between her legs. The ice melted to nothing and he grinned, reaching into the bucket for another cube. His soft caress explored her flesh, finding something so familiar in touching her but also something new and exciting.
They weren’t kids anymore. No curfews. No finals tomorrow. No impending doom of having to decide their entire future by graduation. No fear that they couldn’t handle a complication if one should arise. They could do whatever the hell they wanted, and he wanted to fuck her six ways into next week.
He traced a cool line up her other thigh, the ice cube nothing more than a chip of cool slush under the heat of his touch at this point. When he grazed the hot seam of her panties, she gasped.
“I should tell you no.”
“Then tell me no.”
She laughed, her body languid and melting under his exploring touch. “I never could.”
“Are you telling me to keep going?” His finger traced the damp silk separating him from heaven. He wanted nothing more than to sink his body into hers, fingers first, then his tongue, and eventually his cock.
“Yes, but you better make it worth my while.”
He growled, fisting the wet gusset of her panties and yanking her forward. He rose on his knees, stealing a kiss from those tempting lips and showing her without words how much he wanted her.
How had he forgotten how good her mouth could taste, how wild her hungry eyes could drive him? Mariella was never like the other girls in high school. There was always something potent and intense hiding beneath her calm surface. Back then, she didn’t do things the way others did at their age, and now she didn’t kiss him the way most women kissed.
He kissed her full lips with bruising force and she welcomed it. Mouth gasping, her tongue swept across his in teasing invitation, as her fingers fisted his hair. The pristine façade of any reserve shattered as she bit at his mouth, yanking him closer and greedily meeting his desire head on.
Clothing shifted as his fingers searched urgently for more. He meant what he said about keeping the boots on, but the panties had to go.
“Rip ’em. I don’t care.” Her body shifted closer, her narrow skirt hiking up her hips.
Snapping the fine material of her panties, he shoved her knees wide. Glistening pink flesh called to him and he dove forward to steal a taste.
The seating area was too cramped for him to have her the way he wanted. And she was over dressed. Biting at her plush inner thigh, he tugged at her blouse.
“You have too many clothes on, and this sofa is too damn small.” He wanted her naked, in only the boots, and he wanted her now.
Her laughter tickled his ears, teasing and mocking his struggle as he tore at her clothes. He yanked her off the settee and hoisted her over his shoulder, smacking a hand over the round curve of her ass as he carried her to the king size bed.
“How is it that you’re even sexier than you were in high school?”
“I could say the same for you.”
He tossed her down on the coverlet. “Clothes. Off. Now.” They both stripped quickly. “The boots stay on.”
Kicking off her skirt and scraps of her panties she lay back, completely naked except for those stiletto leather boots she bought on consignment. A cloud of ebony waves encircled her smiling face. Curves of flawless olive skin begged for his touch.
Jesus, she was perfect.
How was it, that in all his exploits with the opposite sex, he’d never seen another woman as pretty as she? He swallowed tightly, overcome with some sort of nostalgia or déjà vu. He wasn’t prepared for whatever feelings she was triggering.