Oh, dear God, I'm melting.
His mouth burns against mine as his hand cups my chin, holding me in place as he nips at my lower lip, taking exactly what he wants, and silently promising more. So much more.
And all I have to do is yield to him.
I can't. I shouldn't. I need to pull away.
Any other respon
se and I'll regret this tomorrow. We both will.
Yes, maybe there is something between us--lingering attraction, intense lust, unfinished business, I don't know. But it doesn't matter, because we have to work together starting Monday, and this isn't good. It really, really isn't good.
Except it is.
It's so damn good.
He's like a drug, making my head spin. Stealing reason. Replacing responsibility with need and longing.
I slide my fingers up, then grasp his hair, and urge him even closer. If I'm in, I'm going to be all in, and I want no distance between us.
His teeth tug on my lower lip, and I moan, then part my lips in response to his silent demand. He doesn't hesitate. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming me, and I drink in the taste of him, all heat and male and decadent longing.
I don't know how long we're like that, glued together on the sidewalk in this shameless, passionate reunion, but it's long enough to provoke a smattering of applause and a few whistles. I pull back, feeling self-conscious and sheepish. But that emotion fades when I look at Noah's face. He's not embarrassed at all. On the contrary, he looks like he's just won the lottery, and it's more than a little humbling to realize that I'm the prize.
"Tell me that wasn't a tease," he says. "Because I'm not sure if I could stand it if you walked away right now."
I should--I know I should. But like before, any protest I might raise is beaten back by the ferocious intensity of my desire. I want him touching me again. I want to close my eyes and feel his hands on my body.
And I damn sure don't want to be on the street when he does that.
"My house is miles from here," I say. "Way South Austin. Where do you live?"
He turns and points at the steel-and-glass building that rises behind us.
I raise a brow. "You're kidding."
His smile is slow and very, very sexy. "Right about now, I'm thinking that condo was the best damn purchase I ever made."
"Right about now, I'm agreeing with you."
He takes my hand and leads me across the driveway to the contemporary-style entrance. Austin has a booming downtown area that's becoming known for its urban living. Most of my friends from the music scene can't afford a high-rise condo, but several of the clients and colleagues I've met through Crown Consulting live downtown, and I've seen the interior of a few of their luxury condos.
Noah's, however, is the first I've visited in this particular building. And his unit has, hands down, the best view of the river I've ever seen. "This is stunning," I say as I press my hands to the glass and look out at the sunset over the water. It's not quite six, but it's early November, and the world is illuminated in orange and purple as twilight engulfs the city.
I start to turn, but Noah rests his hands on my shoulders. "Wait. Just stay there."
There's heat in his voice, and my pulse kicks up in response. "Here?" I say, as his palms slide along my arms, so that his hands are over mine on the glass. He's moved closer, too, and now his body is flush against mine so that I can feel every inch of him. The brush of his hands. The hardness of his chest. The tease of his lips against my hair.
But it's the insistent pressure of his erection against my lower back that has me pushing against him, instinctively wanting to increase the contact between us as his hands begin a slow exploration while his mouth dips and his tongue teases the back of my ear.
"Noah." His name is a whisper. A moan. A plea.
"Did you think I wouldn't remember?" he murmurs. "Did you think I'd forgotten how this made you melt? How I could take you right to the edge and then feel you tremble in my arms?"
I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation. In the heat that is spreading through me in response to his touch and his words.
With one hand, he tilts my head to the side, then kisses his way down my neck as his other hands slides under the white cotton tee I'd worn under my black blazer. I'd tossed the jacket over a chair as we'd come into the condo, and now I'm applauding my own forethought. I want nothing between us, and I'm relishing the sensation of his hand beneath the shirt and the electricity that shoots through me as he touches and explores.