Winning Moves (Stepping Up 3)

He dropped her bag and wrapped his strong arms around her and, God, it felt good to have him touch her. Heat radiated from him, warming her palm where it rested, her skin where he touched, where he didn’t touch but she wanted him to. Suddenly, they were kissing, drinking each other in, and Kat felt like she’d die if she didn’t have more of him. Her tongue stroked his, her hands pushed under his T-shirt, feeling the flex of his strong muscles.

He twined his fingers into her hair, tugging away the band holding it at her nape, and angling her mouth to his, taking more of her, and still not enough. Kat leaned into him, the thick ridge of his erection melding to her hips, and she moaned with the need expanding inside her.

“You feel good,” he murmured. “So damn good.”

So did he. Too good. Scary, wonderful good. “This is sex,” she panted. “Just sex.”

“If you say so.” His palms caressed her ribs, then cupped her breasts, and he slanted his mouth over hers, tasting her, before adding, “I’m fine with anything that means you take your clothes off and we keep doing what we’re doing.”

On some level, his refusal to say this was just sex pleased her, on another it scared her, but remembering why it scared her was becoming a challenge. Kat nipped his lip and shoved his shirt upward. He yanked it over his head and tossed it away, giving no resistance at all. She explored his broad, hard chest, absorbing the feel of him with near desperation.

“Sex,” she reminded him.

“Great sex,” he countered.

“Just sex,” she said. “Say it.”

“Whatever you want, KandyKat.”

She stared at him, knowing he wasn’t going to say it. And she was glad, which made her pretty messed up where he was concerned. Or maybe insane to think she could get over him by being with him.

“Then you won’t mind if I do this,” she replied, dropping to her knees, as she tugged at his belt.

He held his hands out to his sides. “Feel free to use me all you like, sweetheart.”

She tugged his pants down, freeing his shaft and wrapping her hand around the width. “I intend to.”

* * *

THIS WASN’T JUST sex, but Jason didn’t figure he’d convince Kat of that when she was on her knees with his cock in her hand. Besides, he was pretty sure she was trying to convince herself, not him, anyway. Though when she licked the tip of his shaft and set every damn nerve ending he owned to prickling, he was pretty open to her trying to convince him, too. She wouldn’t change his mind, but when she ran her tongue over the sexy curve of her bottom lip, as if she didn’t dare waste one little taste of him, she damn near brought him to his knees in front of her.

She ran her tongue around the head of his cock, casting a sexy look up at him that said she knew she was in control, and she knew what he liked. Which was exactly why they were here. Because she did know him, and he knew her, in a way only two people who shared a special bond could. He’d never had this with any other woman, and he’d tried. He’d dated. And he’d remained unsatisfied in every possible way.

She sucked him deeper, and it felt good, but somehow his mind cleared when he’d have thought the opposite would occur. He replayed his thoughts from moments before, reason invading escape and pleasure. He would never convince her this was more than sex while her hand was around his cock, while her mouth was around his cock. He had to make her stop. Ah. Yeah. Stop. She drew him deeper, took all of him, and then started to pump her hand and her mouth at the same time.

He balled his fists by his side, resisting the urge to slide his fingers into her hair, to encourage her to keep going. Jason inhaled and then forced the air out, reaching down and pulling Kat from his body, wanting far more from her than a few minutes of bliss.

Jason wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, twining his fingers in her silky blonde hair again. He inhaled the familiar scent of roses that was so Kat, so his woman, then lowered his lips a breath from hers.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her hands on his chest. “You like when I do that. I like when I do that.”

“I’ve waited way too long to have you like this again, to waste any of it, with your clothes on.”

“Is that right?” she asked, sounding as breathless as he felt.

“Oh yeah,” he assured her, “that’s right.” He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue caressing hers in a long, languid stroke that had them both moaning with the contact, with the connection, the need burning between them.