Okay, that’s a question? Of course you should act on it! Because maybe, just maybe, it was possible to win the fair lady.
Hardly breathing, he lifted his hands to her face, spearing his fingers into her hair at the same time he cupped her sweet jaw between his palms. Lowering his chin, his heart thundering so quickly it would’ve busted an EKG machine had he been hooked up to one, he watched her swallow jerkily. Then her mouth fell open, and her breaths came more quickly.
Now there was no mistaking that for the invitation it was. Especially when she again murmured, “Carlos.” His body flashed hot as the sun, his dick doing jumping jacks inside his cargo pants.
“Abby,” he whispered against her lips, not kissing her, simply allowing their breaths to mingle, to merge. In and out. In and out. Give and take. Wondering if she’d have second thoughts and stop him. Praying she wouldn’t…
And damned if the simplicity of the moment, of sharing the air between them as they stood close, so close, wasn’t one of the most erotic things he had ever done. It was so simple, so sweet, and so fucking hot. Passion fizzed through his veins, tightening the skin over his scalp, making him tremble.
Did she feel it? Did she have a clue what she was doing to him?
She must have, because the next instant she moaned. It was a sound of longing…of yearning. The age-old cry of woman to man.
He answered it.
Closing his eyes, he did what he’d been dreaming of doing for nearly a decade. And the instant his mouth touched hers, he knew he was a goner. Not just because somehow every single one of his nerve endings had moved to his lips, but also because Abby was everything he’d dreamed she’d be. More. Her mouth was soft. So invariably soft and plump and delicious. So delicately feminine. Did he mention soft?
He angled his head to more fully align their lips, and that’s when Abby went and shocked the ever-loving shit out of him. Because he’d always assumed, should she allow him this pleasure, she’d be hesitant, sweet but passive.
Holy hell! She wasn’t passive. She was passionate. She wasn’t hesitant. She was hungry! Stabbing her fingers into his hair, she opened her mouth, plunged her tongue between his teeth, and proceeded to try to eat him alive.
If she succeeds, I’ll die a happy man…
* * *
I shouldn’t be doing this!
It was the second time the thought screamed through Abby’s brain. But once again, she chose to ignore it.
Yes, she shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be kissing Carlos like her life depended on it. She shouldn’t be sucking his tongue into her mouth as if the world would end if she didn’t. But she’d wanted this for so long. Wanted him for so long. And she’d never dreamed he might want her, too. Not in her wildest fantasies could she have imagined smart, sexy Carlos Soto would be interested in her.
Yet here he was…his thick fingers speared into her hair, his hard palms framing her face and showing her just what to do, how to kiss him. And every dart of his tongue, each hot glide between her lips might as well have been a wicked lick to the center of her sex. She burned and would have sworn on a stack of bibles she was seconds away from going up in flames. Just poof! A human torch…
“Abby,” he whispered again before leaving a trail of hungry, hasty kisses across her cheek and back to her ear. “Dios, Abby, you taste so good.” He sucked her sensitive lobe into his sinfully knowledgeable mouth.
She tasted good? She did? No, no. He was the one who should be on the menu of the finest restaurant. Because his breath was fresh and warm, and the sweat on his skin when she turned her head to gently sink her teeth into his wrist was sweet and delightful. He was the appetizer, entrée, and dessert all rolled into one wonderfully decadent male feast.
He moaned against her neck when she darted out her tongue, flicking at the pulse beating heavily in his wrist. The sound went all through her, making her nipples tighten, her toes curl, and her womb contract and ache anew. It was a wanton sound. A shameless sound. The sound a man makes when he’s mindless and in need of a woman.
She couldn’t believe it. Carlos…in need of her. Carlos…wanting her. She was surrounded by him, overpowered by him. His height. His breadth. His sheer masculinity. She reveled in the feel of the muscles in his shoulders, so large her hands couldn’t grip the entirety of them when she dug in her fingers to pull him closer, closer… He could never be too close.
“Oh, yes,” she breathed—breathed?—no more like panted when he opened his mouth over the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Then he sucked. Hard. And each pull of his lips had her stomach dipping and whirling and tingling as if she was on a roller coaster ride. Her center was an aching void that longed to be filled. Her entire body straining and struggling for release.