"I've taken snapshots of my arrangements before, but I've never seen professional photos of them." Her voice was soft, as if she wasn't even conscious she was speaking.
"The photographer has done a good job." He passed the mouse to her so she could flick through the photos at her own pace.
"The lighting is amazing," she said as she scrolled. "And the angles..."
He was sure the lighting and angles were out of this world, but he didn't even glimpse them. His attention was firmly focused on Faith. Her eyes shone with unshed tears-were they of pride? Or joy? As one of those tears broke away and made a track down her cheek, he brushed it away with his thumb.
She turned to him, eyes shocked, lips slightly parted.
"Dylan-"
He withdrew his hand and sat on it and his other hand for good measure. "I'm sorry. I promised not to touch you, and I won't."
Her chest rose and fell more quickly than it had only a few minutes before. "You cross your heart?"
"Yes. I give you my word."
She sucked her luscious bottom lip into her mouth, obviously considering something. Finally she released her lip and met his gaze again. "Then do you mind if I do something?"
"Whatever you want," he said and meant it.
She lifted her hand and cupped the side of his face, running her thumb along his skin, the roughness of his jaw. "I've been dreaming about doing this, but I knew if I did, it would start something neither of us wanted. But since you've promised, then I just wanted to see..."
His pulse had spiked at her touch, and now it raced even faster.
"Faith," he said, his voice ragged. "Have a little mercy."
"Just a moment more," she whispered as her other hand joined in the exploration of his face.
Dylan tensed the muscles in his arms, trying to retain control over them, but he kept sitting on his hands. He didn't dare move. Then her index finger brushed over his lips, and he couldn't stop his tongue darting out to meet it. She pressed a little harder into his bottom lip, and he caught the tip of her finger between his teeth. She moistened her own lips and watched his mouth as if there was nothing she wanted more than to kiss him. He knew exactly how that felt.
"Faith," he said as her fingers moved to his throat. "This is a dangerous game."
"I'll stop in a moment." But her fingers continued their path, moving from his throat up to thread through his hair. "I've been thinking, daydreaming about doing this, and I'll never get another chance."
He groaned. She'd been daydreaming about him? About touching him?
All the blood in his body headed south. He adjusted his position on the chair but didn't release his hands.
"It seems as if it's been forever since our kiss," she continued as her hands traced a path down his throat again, but this time not stopping, instead spreading over his chest. "And even though this can't go anywhere, I've sometimes thought I'd die if I never touched you again. So I just want to make a memory to keep."
"You'll be the death of me." His head dropped back-he couldn't handle her touch combined with the sight of her a moment longer. Though some devil inside him made him ask, "Tell me what else you daydreamed."
There was a pause and he thought she wasn't going to answer, until in a soft voice she said, "You were touching me as well."
"I've thought about that." A lot. And he was thinking about it now. There was something about this woman who made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Being around her when she worked, laughing with her, having her hands on him.
"Dylan?" she whispered, her voice close to his ear.
Her breath was warm on his earlobe, and he could barely get enough brain cells working to answer. "Yes?"
"What would it take to get you to break that promise?"
A shudder raced through his body. "Faith," he warned.
"Would you touch me if I begged?" Her hands trailed down his arms to rest on his wrists-as far as she could go while he was still sitting on his hands.
His arms trembled but he didn't move, couldn't speak. Then her hands cupped either side of his face and brought his gaze down to land on her. The air from her lungs fanned across his face.
"Please," she whispered against his lips, and then leaned in the last inch and kissed him.
And his last thread of control snapped.
Seven
Faith knew she was being reckless, but the moment Dylan's mouth closed the tiny space to reach hers, she didn't care. She'd been craving this since the last time they'd kissed. Had been craving him.
As she gently landed in his lap, his tongue pushed between her parted lips. She couldn't have contained the sound of satisfaction that rose in her throat if she'd tried. And she definitely didn't want to try. She could talk for an hour about the reasons they shouldn't cross the line again, but this, this felt too right. She speared her hands through his hair, reveling in the slide of it over her sensitive fingers.
His arms closed around her, holding her close, but it wasn't close enough. She dug at his waistband until she worked his shirt free, then skimmed her hands underneath, over his abdomen and up as high as she could reach with the fabric restraining her hands. His light chest hair tickled, and she dug her nails in.
"Faith," he said as his head dropped back, but his arms didn't relax their grip an inch.
His arousal pressed against the underside of her thighs, and she wriggled against it. A groan seemed to be ripped from him, and he lifted his head to meet her eyes. "I knew you'd be the death of me."
She smiled and kissed him. He tasted of champagne and heat, and she'd never tasted anything so decadent. After minutes, or hours, her lungs screamed for air, so she pulled back, gasping, but he didn't miss a beat. He scraped his teeth across her earlobe, and electric shivers radiated out across her body. She'd never been this desperate for any man. There was something about Dylan Hawke that drove her to the brink of insanity.
"If we're doing this-" he said, gasping between words.
Before he could finish his sentence, she said, "Oh, we're doing this."
He grinned against her mouth. "Then let's move somewhere more comfortable."
He stood, taking her with him and setting her on her feet, and began to walk her backward, through the living room and down the hall, expertly guiding her so that she didn't hit anything, his mouth not leaving hers the entire time.
Once they reached his bedroom, she had no interest in looking around except to ensure there was a bed. Her gaze found a large one with a dark wood headboard and a navy blue comforter and pillows. Perfect. Dylan flicked on a lamp, and its soft yellow light joined the last rays of the sunset filtering through large windows that overlooked downtown LA. The sunset was stunning, but nothing compared with the man before her.
His hands explored her shape through her clothes, but she had less patience-she slid her hands under his cotton shirt so that she could feel his skin again. It had been only minutes since she'd touched his bare chest, but she missed the sensation. She worked up from the ridges of his abdomen, higher, until she found the crisp hair that covered his pecs. It still wasn't enough, so she unbuttoned the shirt and began the journey again, this time with more freedom.
He groaned and pulled her closer, trapping her hands between them, and with palms cupping her bottom, he lifted her until she was standing on her toes, pressed against him. The ridge of his arousal pressed at the juncture of her thighs, the pressure only teasing and nowhere near enough. There was an ache deep inside her and it was only intensifying.
With a hand flat on his chest, she pushed him back. She reached out and unbuckled his belt, pulling it through the loopholes until it came free in her hands, and then dropped it over her shoulder. It clattered on the polished wood floor, and Dylan let out a laugh.
"Seems like you have flair in more than one area of your life, Faith Sixty-Three."
"Seems like you're a smooth talker in more than one area of your life." She undid the button at the top of his trousers and slowly lowered the zipper. With thumbs tucked into the sides, he gave the trousers a nudge and they fell to his ankles, along with his underwear.
He continued to walk her backward to the bed, but she put her hands on his shoulders, stilling him. "Give me a moment to appreciate you."
Obligingly he nodded, but almost immediately he cradled her face and kissed her again. She moved in, closing the distance between them, feeling the heat of his naked body through his clothes. So much, but not enough.