There’d be no faking with Callie. He’d know with every sigh, every shudder, every heated flush over her skin, exactly what she was feeling and how much she liked it. The thought was intoxicating, far more so than the excellent champagne.
It was time to turn down the heat a little, though, he decided and he turned to general conversation to offer some respite to the cacophony of need that threatened to derail his legendary cool.
“You were a bit nervous on the flight out. Is flying a problem for you?” he probed as she took a sip from her glass.
He watched as she slowly replaced her glass on the table, noted how the sun gilded the light sheen of moisture on her lips. So much for turning down the heat. He fought with the urge to lean across and trace that shimmer with the tip of his tongue and then to delve into the moist heat of her mouth and find out how she tasted with the hint of vintage champagne on her tongue. It would be so easy.
“I’ve never been a relaxed flyer. No real fear, but just that sense of not being in control. That unnerves me.”
“You don’t trust easily?”
Josh reached out and took one of her hands in his, and lightly stroked his thumb across the inside of her wrist. Her pulse responded beneath his touch with a sudden flutter.
“No.”
She pulled away from his touch, ostensibly to help herself to another canapé but he knew it was to distance herself from his question. And what she didn’t say intrigued him.
“But you did trust the Palmers?”
Her eyes sharpened. “Why do you ask that?”
“Well, you spent time in one of Irene’s homes and you’ve worked for them ever since. That implies a certain level of trust.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, not at all. Do you trust me?”
“Should I?” she hedged, meeting his gaze briefly before her eyes flitted away again.
Josh let one side of his mouth draw up in a half smile. “What’s not to trust?”
“What, indeed? Maybe I should ask the same of you? Do you trust me?”
“Would I have hired you if I didn’t? Don’t worry, Callie, I trust you.”
Her eyes flew back to his. Silently he cursed himself for letting the mood of the evening grow too clinical. General conversation was one thing, but right now he preferred the loaded atmosphere that had undulated between them. An atmosphere heavy with promise, one he intended to deliver on.
“Dance with me,” he commanded, rising to his feet and offering his hand.
“Is that what’s necessary right now?” Callie parried, even as she lay her hand in his.
“Oh, yes, it’s absolutely necessary.” Josh smiled in return. “What would a beautiful evening, out on the water like this, be if we didn’t make the most of every second?”
He drew her close against his body. He was more than semi-aroused, a state he’d grown used to in her proximity, and he wasn’t afraid for her to know it. He sensed the moment she recognised his desire for her, and felt her stiffen in his arms before relaxing once more. As their steps moved in perfect synchronicity across the deck, he made sure she understood that this dance was only the beginning of what they would achieve together tonight.
Her breasts brushed against his chest—their movement confirming his suspicion that she wore no bra. It was all he could do to restrain himself from undoing the knot of fabric at her nape and letting the pieces drop to expose her to his sight, his touch.
The light spice of her fragrance teased his nostrils. It was a headier perfume than the one she wore in the office, which was so light it was a mere hint of femininity. But this perfume, it spoke of so much more.
Josh bent his head and inhaled her scent more deeply, letting his lips graze across the curve of her neck where it met her deliciously bare shoulders. Callie trembled at his touch, but he knew it was not in fear. The tips of her breasts hardened against his shirt. The knowledge that only two layers of fabric separated their skin was both a torment and a thrill.
He traced the cord of her neck with the tip of his tongue, punctuating its track with small kisses. Fire roared in his veins as she moaned with pleasure, and he captured the sound with his mouth, his lips closing over hers, his tongue gently caressing the soft membrane within with intimate care.
He was rock hard, his body now trembling with suppressed need. With one kiss she drove him to the brink as no woman had ever done before. He wanted her with a passion that bordered on compulsive. He dragged his lips from her mouth and rested his forehead against hers.
“How hungry are you?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.
“For dinner?” Callie replied, a tiny hitch in her voice. She shook her head ever so slightly. “Not very.”