She kept her phone in her hand, the glow of the screen providing light. “No. Kinley’s in charge tonight. She wanted to let me know I’m not needed at the moment.”
“Maybe not upstairs,” he said and reached for her again.
Dropping the phone on the table, she nestled against him, running a hand slowly up his chest. “The emergency generator doesn’t provide power down here. I could light candles so we can see better.”
“Or we could just depend on our sense of touch,” he said, his voice warm with intimate humor.
Tongue tucked firmly in her cheek, she said gravely, “I suppose we really have no choice.”
“No,” he murmured, shifting his weight to press her back into the pillows. “No choice at all.”
Her laugh was muffled by his kiss.
They put the sense of touch to very good use. Hands explored, caressed. Legs tangled, entwined. Bodies arched, shifted, strained. Every inch of her ached for his touch, and he seemed intent on satisfying that longing. He shifted onto his side on the couch and she lay facing him, one leg thrown over his, his hand sliding beneath her skirt to stroke her thigh. She had a hand beneath his borrowed T-shirt, her palm spread over his warm, taut skin, tickled by the light covering of hair across his chest. They kissed again, slowly, thoroughly, appreciatively.
She hadn’t actually planned for the evening to go this far, but still she found herself in no hurry to bring it to an end. She wasn’t thinking about the future now, about subtext or concerns, possibilities or potential disappointments. This night belonged solely to them—to her—and she wasn’t ready for it to end.
Finally separating their lips by an inch or so, he cleared his husky throat. “Maybe I should go.”
Considering where his right hand was, and considering that she was pressed so snugly against him that she knew exactly how much he was enjoying this interlude, and considering that she had been participating very enthusiastically, she had to admit she was surprised by his words. Cassie was at her mother’s, so he would be returning to an empty house, possibly a dark house if the power outage extended that far. “Why?”
He grimaced expressively. “I think you know why.”
She appreciated that he wasn’t trying to rush her, despite his own obvious reluctance to stop. They would part on good terms if she sent him on his way now. Perhaps he would ask her out again soon, and maybe next time they could finish what they’d started tonight. Or maybe they could just finish it now, she thought, reaching up to cup his face in her hands and nibble his lips. She heard him inhale sharply, felt a little quiver run through him, and she had the satisfying suspicion that he was exerting a significant amount of willpower not to roll her beneath him.
“Bonnie,” he groaned against her mouth.
“You’re not really in a hurry to go, are you?” she asked, sliding her bare leg against his denim-covered one. “I mean, it’s still early. It wouldn’t even be
dark out if it wasn’t storming.”
“I didn’t say I want to go,” he reminded her.
“Then don’t,” she said, making a sudden decision. She shifted into a sitting position, then stood and looked down at him. “Maybe you’d like to see the rest of my apartment?”
“I’ve wanted to see your bedroom for a while now.”
She laughed softly in response to his candid admission and took his hand as he rose. “Then by all means…”
“You’re, um—?”
She broke in firmly. “I’m a big girl, Paul. And, as I said earlier, I’m not naive.”
Clutching his shirt, she went up on tiptoe to face him. “I haven’t had a vacation in almost three years. I haven’t even had a day off in almost longer than I can remember. I am a single, unattached grown woman with a rare few hours for myself and a very handsome, occasionally charming man with whom to spend them. Now I could light a candle and we could play gin rummy, or we could adjourn to my bedroom with no strings and no regrets.”
His smile flashed in the dim light. “Well, when you put it that way…”
They walked together toward her bedroom, with her leading the way. Just as they crossed the threshold, the power came on again, turning on the lights in the room behind them. Bonnie didn’t bother to flip the bedroom switch, but closed the bedroom door instead. “Let’s just pretend we didn’t notice that, shall we?”
Tumbling with her to the bed, he said, “The only thing I see is you.”
“Right answer,” she assured him, and drew his mouth to hers.
Chapter Seven
The sizzling electricity in the room had nothing to do with the storm when Bonnie arched into Paul’s eagerly roving hands. Hungry to taste the firm muscles she’d felt only through his clothes so far, she tugged at his shirt, pushed fabric out of the way, then pressed her parted lips to the warm skin she revealed.
Paul made a deep, rumbling sound when she circled one of his taut nipples with the tip of her tongue, and she laughed softly with pleasure against his chest. But then his hand slid beneath her skirt and her laughter changed to a breathless gasp.