Unwrapping Holly

Cole could honestly say that not only would exploring new things with this woman be a God-given pleasure he would heartily embrace, he fully intended to make sure it happened. He wanted her in a bad way. Wanted her naked, hot, and calling his name. She possessed a combination of innocence and naughtiness that had him burning to find out more about her. Oh yeah. Holly got to him in a way no other woman had in a very long time. She reached inside him and drew a response that he could no more control the necessity of his next breath.

“Exploring new things makes life interesting,” he said finally, all too aware that she was awaiting his reply.

A smile hinted at the corners of that lush mouth. “I do believe I like ‘interesting,’ ” she murmured, and then lifted the cup to her lips, sipped the beverage, his hand still beneath hers. Her sweet floral scent, unique and sultry, mingled with the scent of coffee.

He lifted the cup from her hands and set it on the bar so that he could step closer to her. “The night is young,” he commented. Her jean-clad knees now touched his thighs, and he forced himself to resist the urge to press her legs apart and step between them. He wanted to enjoy every single second of this game they were playing, take it slow, savor the burn, until it became pure fire.

He set his palms on her legs, and her hands went to his. They stared at each other, arousal darkening Holly’s eyes, telling him what she had yet to say—about her desire, need. His hands began to inch up her legs, his thumbs tracing the line of her inner thighs. Her lips parted, and he sensed her hesitation a moment before she pressed down on his hands. “No. We can’t. I—”

“Wanted to explore new things,” he interrupted. She greeted his words with a prim look of shock that did nothing to conceal the arousal lurking in her eyes. That she pretended to be appalled when she was not, well, that downright had his balls high and tight. Turned him on in a hot, hard way and told him she’d never dared anything sexual beyond the bedroom. He intended to change that. And so he challenged her. “Why not start exploring with pleasure?”

As the seconds ticked by, seconds laden with sexual tension, a magnetic force slowly lowered their heads together. Anticipation charged through Cole; the warmth of her breath teased his face. Would her lips be as soft as they looked? Would she taste sweet like her heart-shaped face and delicate features said she would, or spicy like her attitude? He was seconds from the answer when her cell phone rang once and then started to vibrate. They froze a hair from seeing that kiss become reality.

“Proof,” she whispered. “The night is not so young.” The phone rang again and she pulled back, though her hesitation was clear. “I have to go.”

He didn’t move; he wouldn’t allow her a chance to escape. “Boyfriend?”

She laughed. “Uh, no.” There was a combination of certainty and disbelief lacing the words. As if she couldn’t believe he’d thought such a thing. “Parents. Home for the holidays.”

Good, Cole thought. No boyfriend. Later, he’d examine why that pleased him so much. Right now, he would simply accept that he wanted her, and he wasn’t about to let this end here.

There was no way in hell that Cole was allowing her to escape. And escape is what she intended. He was now clear that she’d started this little game, perhaps played it bold beyond her nature, because she’d known it could go nowhere—not with her parents waiting for her.

He reached for her coat as she stood up, calculating how he was going to deal with her intention to cut and run. She wanted him, but she didn’t know how to deal with him outside a safety zone. And for him, that simply wasn’t acceptable. He draped the coat behind her, allowing her to slide her arms inside while ensuring she remained facing him. The instant she was inside the coat, he grabbed the collar and pulled her body next to his.

She sucked in a breath and stared up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t forget me,” he murmured, his voice low, laden with the desire coursing through his veins. “I don’t plan to forget you.”

“I can promise,” she whispered. “I won’t—”

He kissed her, pressed his lips to her soft, silky, warm mouth and drank her in. His tongue slipped past her teeth, explored with gentle strokes. She tasted like coffee and whiskey, like temptation and heaven. And when she sighed into his mouth, her tongue melting against his, he decided she felt like a witch because she’d damned sure cast one hell of a spell over him.