I step between him and the door—close, so close if I reach out I can touch him. “And how would you know what I need?”
“Dammit.” He grabs my arms. His eyes blaze. “I’ve done my best to keep away from you, and now...” He presses me against the door. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“But I want you here,” I whisper, too aware of his strong body pressed against mine, his musky scent. “Always have. Even when I thought you didn’t want me.”
“Why are you saying these things to me now?” His face dips toward mine, his eyes half-closing. “All this time I thought you loathed me.”
“I don’t. I...” His hands land on either side of my head, trapping me against his hard chest. His mouth looks luscious and I can’t think of anything I want more than to kiss him. “Ash...”
And then he’s kissing me, his mouth hard and hot against mine, stealing my breath. His tongue swipes over the seam of my lips, opening them, thrusting into my mouth.
My knees turn to water. I sag and he wraps a corded arm around me, holding me up, pulling me to him.
Still kissing me, his taste exploding inside me, making me ache to my core. I lift my arms around his neck, wanting more. Wanting him more. Closer. Wanting to feel his bare, warm skin against mine.
I bury my fingers in the soft hair at his nape while his slip under the hem of my blouse, inching up. I shiver when he finds the clasp of my bra and tugs.
“Want me to stop?” he whispers.
“No. Don’t stop.”
“Auds...” His voice is ragged, his breathing harsh. My nickname on his lips is sweet and hot, merging the past and the present.
But he’s a grown man now. His hardness presses into my stomach, a rod of steel. He’s aroused as much as I am, and I like that. I grind myself against him and he moans, a deep, throaty sound.
Suddenly both his hands are under my blouse, unclasping my bra and pulling everything off. I hold up my arms to help, needing to feel the touch of his skin on me. My blouse and bra land on the floor with a whisper.
God, his eyes smolder. His lips part and he draws a long breath. “You’re so beautiful.” His hands brush the sides of my breasts, sending bolts of heat down my spine. “I’ve dreamed of seeing you, touching you like this for so long.”
“Yeah?” I shiver.
His hands move under my breasts, cupping them, and I throb everywhere. “Since I kissed you in high school.”
A long time.
He slides his hands down my sides, under my legs, and lifts me. Gasping, I cling to him. He sure likes carrying me around. He groans, his hardness trapped between us, throbbing and hot like fire. Then he hefts me higher, nuzzling my neck, and strides to the sofa where he proceeds to lay me down on my back.
He climbs over me, this time trapping me with his legs.
Even in
the warm air of the room, my skin pebbles and my nipples harden more. I want him to take off his shirt, his pants, I want to see his body, see if it looks as it feels, so firm and perfect.
Bending over, he props his elbow by my head and kisses a trail from my shoulder to my neck, and I turn my head to the side to give him better access. He nips at my earlobe, making me shudder and shift. I slide my hands down his ribs, down to his hips, trying to slip them under his shirt. It’s so tight I can’t.
Then his mouth closes over the tip of my breast and I forget what I’m trying to do. He sucks and licks until my back arches off the cushions and my breath comes out in a hiss. Electric shocks zip down my spine. Liquid heat surges low in my body, and a throb starts between my legs.
I need him. When he moves to my other breast, I let my legs fall open and scrape my hands down his lower back, dragging him closer.
He hasn’t been the only one to dream of this moment. I pushed it down but deep in me I’ve wanted him for all those years.
He sits back with a lazy grin. His eyes glint like silver. But then he slips his fingers into the high waistband of my stretch pants, tugging, and I start.
I grab his hands. “No.”
He stills, the grin slipping from his face. “Auds?”
“Please, don’t...” I hold his hands, fighting panic. “Don’t.”