She smiled and reached for her bag while butterflies swarmed in her belly. Stepped out of her sandals. ‘That’s silly, I just got here.’
Reaching into her bag, she placed the contents on the table one at a time. A bottle of her favourite sparkling white, a punnet of strawberries, a supermarket’s pre-packed selection of cheeses. Grapes.
His reaction might have been bored, as if he was used to women bearing gifts, except for a telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth before he said, ‘What’s all this?’
‘It’s New Year...’ she glanced at the countdown on the silent TV ‘...in four minutes and twenty seconds. And I want to celebrate.’ Digging deeper, she snatched up one of those party favours that unrolled like a tongue and made a funny noise, and blew it at him.
No response.
‘Party popper, then?’ She snatched it from her bag of surprises and pulled. It sounded like a gunshot in the silence. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sakes.’ Exasperated, she tossed the explosion of tiny streamers at him and moved to the TV, raised the volume so she could hear the party happening in front of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. ‘So...it’s me.’ She waited on tenterhooks, breath backing up in her throat.
‘Yeah. And you’re still trouble,’ he said, finally, and maybe she saw a glint of humour in his eye before it vanished as quick as a blink.
She let out a relieved breath. ‘Good. That’s good. I think. Okay. It’s New Year.’
‘So it is.’
Slapping sweat-damp hands on her thighs, she glanced once at the screen where revellers were having fun at Circular Quay. ‘Three minutes.’ Nodding at the foil hat, she set to work uncorking the bottle of bubbly. ‘I don’t want to be the only one looking ridiculous.’
He shook his head. ‘Ridiculous, never. You look gorgeous. Sexy and gorgeous and damn near irresistible.’
Her blood turned to syrup but she kept her tone light. ‘Why thank you. Glasses?’ As she ripped the foil she watched him walk to the bar and collect two tumblers rather than the crystal flutes. Fine. She wasn’t going to quibble about details.
The cork popped and a cheery fizzing sound filled the room. ‘Tassie’s best.’ She filled the glasses while he held them out, then set the bottle on the table. Their fingers barely touched as he handed her a glass but it was enough to send a whoosh through her skittering pulse. It hadn’t done that since the last time Jett had touched her. She looked up into dark, unreadable eyes. ‘Happy New Year, Jett Davies.’
‘And you.’
They took a mouthful and she let the bubbles slide down her throat then licked the sweetness from her lips and said, ‘If you won’t, I will.’ Grabbing the little foil cap, she reached up and set it on top of his head, secured the elastic beneath his chin with a little ping and a grin. ‘Forty-five seconds till lip-lock time.’ Her gaze dropped to his mouth and temptation ruled. ‘Or we could start early.’
She didn’t know who moved first but she was aware of two things: his lips were on hers...and she wasn’t counting down those last seconds to midnight.
All she could do was focus on the guy she was kissing. Tasting of champagne and musky man and sweet, sweet temptation. Making her head spin. Driving her crazy and sending her to that place he’d shown her. That place she couldn’t wait to revisit.
The instant their mouths touched, Jett couldn’t resist. She was spontaneous and fun and her lips soft and warm and generous. Without thought he banded his arms around her and pulled her close, her body pliant and melting against his like brandy custard over plum pudding.
He heard the television’s countdown click over to the New Year and lifted his head to look at the enchanting vision in front of him. The exploding fireworks outside showered colour over her face.
Stars shone in her eyes and her lips curved as she met his gaze. ‘Happy New Year,’ she said, softly. ‘Again.’
He couldn’t help but smile back as he let his hands roam lower, to the firm curve of her backside, and tucked her tighter to him, grinding his pelvis hard against her. ‘Back at you.’
She groaned at the contact, her sweet breath fanning his face. ‘It’s pretty good so far.’ Grin widening, she cupped her hands around his jaw and pulled his face back to hers. He was more than happy to oblige, enjoying the way her fingers moved into his hair, against his scalp. Firm and flexible. Sure and strong. Competent. He closed his eyes and tried not to imagine how they’d feel manipulating other parts of his tight, tortured body.
He ran his hands lightly up her spine and she gave one of those little shivers of delight and leaned closer. Firm breasts pressed against his chest, hard nipples easily felt through the thin layers of fabric separating them. She was aroused. Ready. And so, so tempting.