Shay automatically leaned into him, her hands leveraging her weight on his shoulders, the V of her body intimately spread across his cock. He was hard, his eyes hot, his hands gentle as they caressed her back. Thin layers of clothing separated them, but nothing more. Clothes that would soon be removed. And she knew he was thinking the same thing. She could see it in the heaviness of his eyelids, the tightness around his mouth.
“You were mad at me over the dress,” he said softly, sliding his hands under her T-shirt, his calloused fingers brushing the skin of her midsection with delicious friction. “I wanted to turn you over my knee and spank you for strutting around half-naked, inviting that kind of attention. You were asking for trouble.”
“Spank me?” she repeated. Something about her bare butt across his lap was so erotic. Maybe because she knew he would never really hurt her. But what he might do was please her, and that intrigued her. A slow smile slid onto her lips, and the familiar teasing between them banished her nerves. “Might have been fun.”
He didn’t laugh. Heat flared in his expression, arousal etched in his face. He molded her closer, pressing her body tight against his, bringing his lips a warm breath from hers. “Watch out,” he warned softly, “or you might get more than you asked for.”
Had any other man said that to her, she would have probably run for the hills. She certainly wouldn’t have volleyed the seductive challenge back at him. But this was Caleb, and they not only volleyed, they volleyed well together. “Or maybe you will,” she warned softly.
He studied her, his eyes hungry and a bit primal, before he smiled and nipped her lips with his teeth, soothing the bite with his tongue. “I thought you were nervous?”
“I changed my mind.” Her fingers went to his face, her mouth to his, where she whispered, “I’ve wanted you too long to waste our time being nervous.”
A low growl escaped his lips, the intensity matching that look he’d given her—masculine and rough, in a way that stroked a path down her nerve endings and right to her core. A second later, and not soon enough, Caleb’s tongue parted her lips, tasting her with hot, wet demand. And she loved it—loved that after all those years of wanting him, of trying to push him over the edge, he was falling and taking her with him.
And finally, finally, he was touching her, and doing so with confidence and skill, without trepidation. He’d made up his mind this was happening. There was no turning back. Thank God, she thought. He touched her back, her hair and—yes, please—her breasts. Shay moaned into his mouth as he filled his palms and kneaded. Moaned again as his mouth traveled to her neck, her shoulder.
His fingers splayed wider on her bare skin and then began inching her shirt upward, pausing as his eyes found hers, searching, a silent question in the air—do you want to stop? She pressed her lips to his and let them linger, before murmuring, “I want you so very much, Caleb Martin.” Shay leaned back and pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her sexy Victoria’s Secret pink bra in place, thankful now that she hadn’t been able to find her plain T-shirt bra when she’d left this morning.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his fingers trailing over the curve of one breast, a light, barely there touch with the effect of a mist over the ocean, splaying tingling eroticism through her entire body. His arm wrapped around her waist, and he lowered his head, mouth pressed hotly to the center of her chest. His hand and mouth traveling, mouth exploring the delicate line of her breastbone. Somehow he unhooked her bra without her knowing.
Shay caught it before it fell. Caleb arched a brow at her action, his hands stilling at her waist. “Second thoughts?”
It was her turn to give him a slow smile. She’d been teasing Caleb unmercifully for ten years—a dress here, a sexy top there. An accidental-on-purpose touch. Tonight somehow wouldn’t be right if she broke her pattern.
“Why don’t I show you how nervous I am?” she suggested. She pushed out of his lap and stood before him. Out of reach—that was key. He’d touch when she said he could touch. And she was planning on giving him a reason to want to touch. Shay let the bra drop to the ground.
10
CALEB DID NOTHING to disguise the raw hunger in his stare as his gaze raked over Shay’s naked breasts, his body thrumming with demand. He wanted to take her, to rip her clothes off and find his way inside her, this woman who’d driven him to the brink so many times. That she was special, that she was undressing for him by choice, was as close to heaven on earth as he’d ever been. Or he was lying half-dead somewhere on a mission and hallucinating about Shay. It was one hell of a hallucination, at that.