“Alec.” The whisper drifted around him, making him dizzy.
He didn’t know how to respond to the onslaught of emotion, because what did one do when his dreams came true?
Eyes closed, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelid, her jaw—which made her shiver—then finally her mouth. She tasted like jelly and cheese and a hint of the pepper flakes, but mostly she tasted like Colby. Colby, Colby, Colby. His heart brimmed over with rich sweetness, thick and decadent like molten caramel.
Her arms wound around his neck, holding him close. So close it seemed as if their hearts might knock into each other.
He wouldn’t open his eyes for fear that this dream would disappear. Need tightened his entire body with the groundswell of desire and hunger that had built up for years.
Colby eased away and took his hand. “Let’s take this someplace more comfortable.”
No tears. Today she shed no tears. Still, jumping into bed could be the wrong move. High heat, while seductive, could be tricky. Like trying to sear steak in butter, the results would likely be smoky and bitter.
“Wait.”
Her brows rose.
“Let’s slow down. I think you—we—need time.”
She smiled. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”
If you only knew.
He gathered her close so she wouldn’t misread his intentions. “There’s a lot at stake. Our friendship. Our working relationship. Let’s not rush into something and risk one of us ending up hurt.”
Of course, chances were that person would be him, not her. He’d be her rebound lover, and then she’d wake up and remember that he’d never been the man of her dreams.
Her hand touched his cheek before he realized that his gaze had wandered.
“Why do you look sad?” She brushed his bangs away from his eyes.
“I’m not sad.” He masked his self-doubt with a bad joke. “I’m concentrating. It takes a lot of restraint to keep from throwing you over my shoulder and racing to the bedroom.”
“Then let go.”
“If this has any chance of being meaningful, we should treat it with reverence.”
“Reverence,” she almost whispered, her face registering esteem. Esteem, however, wasn’t near enough regard to satisfy him.
“Yes, reverence. Starting with a kiss.” He walked her backward toward the wall. “A perfect kiss.”
He pressed her against the wall, then brought her hands up over her head, lightly fastening them there with his one hand.
“What’s a perfect kiss?” The pulse point of her neck visibly throbbed.
With his free hand, he swept a bit of her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. He stared into her eyes the entire time, even as his thumb stroked her cheek and then brushed along her lips.
“A perfect kiss begins with me touching your mouth.” His gaze temporarily dipped to the cupid’s bow of her lips before returning to her eyes, emboldened by the desire he saw reflected.
Before she replied, he closed his mouth over hers and nipped at her lip, then traced its seam with his tongue. He sucked her lower lip and then sank his tongue into her mouth. Probing once, twice, and a third time until he heard her breathing grow heavier.
“A perfect kiss,” he murmured against her cheek while kissing her jaw and neck, “will brand your heart with my desire.” He released her hands and cradled her face, looking in her eyes. “It will restore you and make you forget every kiss that came before.” He kissed her again, this time with more urgency. Then, almost like a prayer, he whispered, “It will make you dizzy until the answer to every question is my name.”
Her body shivered as she fell under the spell of his perfect kiss. He almost regretted his talent for restraint, now that being one with her seemed essential.
“So we’re agreed.” He kissed her again because, when her lips were so close, he couldn’t resist.
“Not at all.” She unbuttoned his shirt, then smoothed her hands along his chest. “Show me what else you can do so perfectly.”
This time when she yanked on his arm and led him to her room, he followed.
He barely registered the surroundings because the only thing he could see was her beautiful, silky hair in his hands. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. The curve of her shoulders, breasts, and hips as she stepped out of her dress as it fell to the floor.
Her hot skin, so smooth and taut beneath his fingertips, warmed his hands. Lust surged when she pressed her lips to his chest, then made way for more tender yearning.
Closing his eyes, he unleashed the umpteen years of passion he’d hidden away in fear of rejection or scorn. Ma moitié. He didn’t say the words aloud, but love—red, rich, and complete—consumed his heart and soul.