Her Best Match (The Best Girls 1)
“Okay, okay!” she said, attempting to keep her expression neutral. “Just say something. Make some excuse.”
He stopped the advance of his hand, and smiled victoriously. “It’s a deal.”
He stood and tapped on his wine glass to get everyone’s attention, pulling her to her feet. She hastily adjusted the skirt of her dress.
“Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family. Thank you all for coming to share in this time of celebration. We hope you’ll stay and talk and eat and dance for as long as you’d like. But I’ve waited fifty years to find this woman—my perfect match! And now… We’re going to go make up for lost time!”
The crowd chuckled and applauded, while Anne’s face flamed brightly. But Steven swooped her up effortlessly once again into his arms and carried her away.
“I don’t think you quite understood my intent when I asked you to make an excuse,” she told him over the noisy approval of the guests.
“Then let’s make sure you understand my intent.” He grinned at her as he walked. “I intend to take you to the hotel room. Shut the door and lock it. Then I intend to slowly strip off these clothes, starting with this dress. And I intend to kiss each parcel of skin I expose when I undo the buttons on the back.”
“Steven, you can’t talk about it.”
“Of course I can. Then when the last button is undone, I intend to slip it off your shoulders and let it fall in a puddle on the ground. Then I’m going to feast my eyes on you, while you stand in whatever lacy little underthings you have on.”
“What if I have on a girdle and granny panties?”
“Then I will rip them off with my teeth and burn them so you can never wear them again,” he promised, waggling his eyebrows. “Should I stop and buy some matches?”
She giggled. “No, you were right. I’ve got lacy little things on under here.”
“I knew it!” He groaned, stopping to place her on her feet and, drawing her into a kiss. He pulled her against him and pressed his hips so hard against her she gasped.
“We’d better hurry!” She took his hand and pulled him along behind her.
“Wait.” He laughed. “I haven’t finished telling you what I’m going to do. You know, after I take off those lacy underthings.”
They made it to the limousine and crawled into the back. She sat down and patted the seat next to her, but Steven knelt on the floor in front of her. He lifted her foot and took off her slipper.
“What? No spike heels?”
“No, I decided against them. I’m somewhat better at walking in heels now, but you tend to keep me slightly off balance anyway.”
“I thought I’d give you a little demonstration of that thing where I kiss your skin as I expose it,” he said, lowering his mouth to her foot.
“Not my foot!” she exclaimed, trying to pull it away.
“Just trust me, I promise not to tickle.”
He held her foot firmly, and pressed gentle kisses on top of her toes. Then he slid his lips on the top of her foot to her ankle. He softly touched his tongue on the inside of her ankle.
“I love the way your skin tastes,” he declared. She watched his progress with hooded eyes.
He pushed the trailing dress upward as he slid his lips up the shin of her leg toward her knee. His hands caressed her calf softly, sending chills up her spine. Then he repeated the process on the other leg, until she was practically melting off of the seat.
“I don’t want you to stop. You haven’t even touched me above the knees, and I’m already going crazy.”
“I know,” he said, his breathing heavy. “Watching your face is making me crazy too.”
He dropped her foot and seated himself beside her, leaving her to mourn the loss of his touch.
“I’m not going to let our first time happen in the back seat of a car.” Then he chuckled. “Maybe the fifth or sixth time, though… It’s pretty fun.”
“I’m kind of nervous,” she admitted as he began unbuttoning her dress and applying the promised kisses.
“Why are you nervous?” he asked between kisses as he worked his way down.