Damn.
“But I don’t want to,” she adds softly.
Thank fuck.
“Unless you want me to go.”
“Stay.” My fingers brush her cheek, and she leans into my touch.
“Grayson,” she murmurs.
Then she does what I’ve been waiting her to do: she makes her move.
Nora’s hands slide up my chest, curl around my neck, and dive into my hair, bringing me closer until our lips are a breath apart. “Touch me.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I hold onto her waist. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. I just want to be closer to you.” She reaches for the back of my shirt and pulls it up and off in one fluid motion, losing the blanket from her shoulders in the process. Her eyes light up at the sight of my bare chest, and if that doesn’t make a man feel damn good, I don’t know what would.
Her fingers skim down my stomach, and I wonder if she notices my muscles trembling beneath her touch. It’s been years since a woman has seen me with my shirt off, let alone touched me, and I’d almost forgotten how good it feels.
The rush of excitement is heady and powerful, and she gasps when I grip her jaw, tilt her head back, and brand her lips with mine. Nora’s taste invades my mouth, sweet and warm and familiar in a way I can’t explain.
My tongue touches, teases, and tempts her to fall farther into my embrace, and when I feel her knees go weak, I snake an arm around her waist and haul her in close. She takes the opportunity to wrap her legs around my waist. When my cock hits the warmth between her thighs, she sucks in a breath.
Her lips trail across my jaw to my ear where she nips the lobe and whispers, “Take me to your room.”
This woman is a seductress, plain and simple. No man has enough will power to tell her no, myself included.
I carry her down the hall and into my bedroom. It’s dark, and the only sound is our breathing and the rain as it smacks the side of the house. With her still in my arms, I kick off my shoes and step toward the bed. And my foot lands on a stray Lego.
“Shit,” I hiss, stumbling forward as my eyes water. “Stupid Legos.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I lie, cursing the kids up one side and down the other in my head for leaving the little devil toys lying around.
Tomorrow morning, the first thing I’m going to do is get rid of every single Lego we own. Even those expensive Harry Potter ones I bought Jack for Christmas last year.
Gone. Every last one of them will be gone.
“Lock the doors and pick up Legos,” Nora murmurs to herself.
I lower her to the ground. “Huh?”
“Oh, uh, I’m making a mental list.”
“What kind of list?”
She bites her lip and grins up at me. “A how-to-date-a-single-dad list. First on the list: always lock the door. Second is pick up Legos before sexy times.”
“I like this list. Can I add something to it?”
“By all means.”
“Don’t waste a second of alone time.”
“Well, then—”