The Best Man's Plan

“There’s not much,” she said, dropping another kiss on his firm chin. “Only a small bedroom. But the bed is big enough for two.”

Emotion flared in his eyes, but he remained still, speaking doubtfully. “You’re asking me to stay?”

“Yes. If you want to.”

“I

think you know the answer to that.”

“Then stay,” she said simply.

“We need to talk.”

She kissed him again, letting her tongue sweep his lips and her breasts rest against him. “We’ve talked enough tonight,” she murmured against his mouth.

His arms tightened spasmodically around her. “I hope this isn’t the champagne speaking.”

“It’s not the champagne,” she assured him, wriggling out of his arms. She rose and held out her hand to him. “Let me show you my bedroom, Bryan.”

Holding her gaze with his, he rose very slowly and took her hand.

Grace soon found out that her imagination had been woefully inadequate when it came to making love with Bryan. She had known he would look gorgeous beneath his clothes, but actually seeing him without his shirt made her breath lodge hard in her throat. Running her hands over his smooth, sleekly muscled chest, she reveled in his warmth. He still wore a small bandage on his left forearm, mostly, she suspected, to protect the raw skin from rubbing against his clothes. Even that looked enticing on him.

She placed her mouth against his throat, nibbling a line of kisses from his jaw to his shoulder and down to his firm, flat nipple. She felt the rapid rhythm of his pulse, and heard the increase in his breathing, and she smiled. It was nice to know she could affect him with her touch—after all, turnabout was fair play.

His hands moved behind her, and she felt cool air on her back as her long zipper parted. Moments later, the dress fell to her feet in a swath of glittery lavender fabric. She stepped out of it, leaving her clad only in a tiny strapless bra and a mere triangle of lace panties.

She’d bought the sexy undergarments only the day before, even though she’d had other, more practical choices that would have sufficed. She supposed she’d suspected even then that Bryan might be seeing them.

She was glad now that she’d gone to the extra effort. Bryan’s eyes all but glazed over when he stepped back to look at her. Talk about a boost to her ego…

He moved quickly. One minute she was standing in front of him, and the next she was lying beneath him on her bed.

Her breathless laugh was smothered beneath his mouth. Her arms went around him and her bare legs tangled with his still-clothed ones. She was going to have to get those tuxedo pants off him—in a minute, she thought as she arched into his roaming hands.

Scraps of lace flew, baring her completely to his leisurely exploration. She couldn’t be still as he touched her with his fingertips, his lips, the tip of his tongue, and the edge of his teeth. She had to touch him, to move against him, to press her lips against whatever part of him she could reach.

Her hands finally found the fastenings of his pants. Bryan cooperated as she unsnapped them, and then the pants joined her clothes on the bedroom floor. When his underwear followed, she thought she might very well hyperventilate.

She’d known from that first day Bryan had strolled into her shop that she’d never met a man like this before. She’d been aware even then that he could be dangerous.

But this was no time for fear, and too late for hesitation. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind and melted into him.

Passion flowed between them, so hot she wouldn’t have been surprised if steam rose from their damp bodies. Their breathing was labored, their movements frantic.

Grace had never seen Bryan when he wasn’t in complete control—not even when he lost his temper. He wasn’t in control now. While his actions were still skillful enough to drive her to the point of insanity, there was nothing calculated or premeditated about them.

For once, they weren’t putting on an act or performing for an audience or following a predetermined plan. They were just Bryan and Grace, letting instinct and emotion guide them.

Nothing had ever felt more right to her.

By the time he finally donned protection and came back to her, she thought she might just explode if they didn’t finish this soon. She pulled him to her with eager hands, her mouth fusing with his as he settled between her invitingly upraised knees.

They fit perfectly together—but she shouldn’t read too much into that, she reminded herself, trying to retain a modicum of perspective even at that emotional moment. And then she couldn’t think at all. Didn’t even try.

She would have plenty of time to think later.

“Grace,” he gasped, stiffening against her.