“If you’re talking about your insinuation that you wanted to sleep with me while we were dancing tonight, then you definitely were not clear. Wanting to go to bed with someone and asking them on a date are two completely different things.” She pushed a tendril of hair behind her shoulder in a nervous gesture. He noticed the rapid throb of her pulse at her throat. He wanted to touch her. Whether to soothe her or excite her, he didn’t know, but the desire to feel his skin against hers felt so powerful it was like a stab of pain.
“Okay. If you say so. Will you go out on a date with me, then?” he asked quietly.
Her eyes flashed. “No.”
“Then that takes me back to my original question. Is it because you’re still mourning your late husband?”
“No.”
“Then I was right earlier—it is about me. Haven’t I proven to you at this point that I’m not the SOB you were always making me out to be?”
“Eric,” she began in a pressured manner and then halted. “I don’t think you’re an SOB.”
“You used to. You never made a secret of that.”
Color stained her cheeks. He glanced down and saw that the small triangle of skin exposed at her chest had deepened in color, as well. Her breasts rose in agitation. He dragged his gaze back up to her face with an effort.
“I know it. And I’m sorry. I haven’t really thought that for a while now. You’re…you’re okay.”
“High praise indeed, coming from you. Was that a proposal?”
“Ha,” she scoffed. Still, her defenses were wavering. She looked more uncertain than annoyed. Vulnerability made her even more beautiful, impossible though that seemed. “My point is, I like you fine. You’re nowhere near as arrogant as I thought you were. That doesn’t mean I want to…” She paused. Eric watched through a narrowed gaze as she bit at her lower lip. His body responded like she’d just reached out and stroked him where it counted. He moved a few inches closer to her, his actions directed by pure instinct.
“…go out with you,” she finished in a tremulous voice.
“I promise I’ll be patient, Colleen. I’ll go slow, if that’s what you want. I’ll go fast, if that’s what you prefer. Whatever you want. Just know that I’ll take very, very good care of you,” he murmured, dropping his head nearer to hers. She didn’t move away, just looked up at him with a big-eyed stare that made him feel one part tender and one part like the big bad wolf.
“Will you please stop looking at me like that?” she whispered.
“I can’t seem to help it. Can’t seem to stop this, either,” he admitted before he cradled the side her neck in his hand and kissed her. She made a sound in her throat like a desperate whimper and returned the kiss.
He’d kept himself on a tight leash ever since that day in his office, but his restraint tank was now officially on empty. Spending time with her this past week, seeing the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, watching her move gracefully amongst the guests all evening, holding her in his arms while they danced—all of it had worn him thin. A man could only take so much, no matter how rational that man was.
Besides, all it took was touching Colleen once, and he became the polar opposite of rational. Losing himself in pure feeling had never felt so good.
He reacquainted himself with the shape of her mouth, gloried in how responsive she was, how soft. The heat just behind her lips beckoned him. He stroked her with his tongue, and she opened for him. He groaned and put his hands on her hips, pulling her against him. The feeling of her curving flesh covered by clinging knit fabric made everything go red for a moment. He leaned over her, trying to slake himself on her taste. The more he drank of her, the more he touched, the more he wanted. His hands moved hungrily, detailing her back, the ridge of her spine.
He molded her hips in his palms before he traced the curve that led to her narrow waist. So soft. So feminine. Her rib cage felt narrow and delicate in his cradling palms. He could feel her heart beating rapidly inside of it. When he touched the side of her breast and felt firm, luscious flesh, they each moaned into the other’s mouth.
He lifted his head and studied her face as he shaped her breast to his palm. A shudder of excitement went through her. Her eyelids opened a crack. Her eyes looked glassy, her lips pink and slightly puffy from his ravening kiss.
“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered through a tight jaw. “Have I told you that?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. “While we danced.”
“It wasn’t enough. I want to tell you more. I want to show you.”
His thumb found her nipple, and he stroked her. He stayed immobile, but it was as if his entire body leapt in arousal. Even through her bra, he felt how she stiffened in response to his caress. He cradled the weight of her breast and molded her flesh against his hand, teasing the nipple into further pronouncement with his thumb and forefinger.
She closed her eyes and gasped, arching her spine slightly and pressing their hips together tightly. He winced in pleasure at the sensation. Unable to resist the lure of her parted lips, he plucked at her mouth, consuming her…coaxing her.
His hand traveled down the length of her body, exploring her hip and the taut, delicious curve of a buttock. He’d wanted to touch her so much over the past several days. Being able to do so now—feeling her firm, feminine flesh, hearing her little moans of excitement—felt like the height of sensual gratification.
Having her touch him was just as intoxicating. Her hands caressed his lower back, and then his hips. She stroked his outer thigh as though she was trying to feel the shape of the muscle through his clothing. Her enthusiastic caresses drove him a little nuts. If their bodies pressed any closer, he was going to be inside—
She bit at him gently, dragging his lower lip between her front teeth. A shudder of pleasure went through him. His eyes sprang wide.
Enough already.