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Good with His Hands(7)

By:Tanya Michaels


Which was what she'd wanted in the first place, he reminded himself.  She wasn't ready to consider relationships or dating. She'd been very  clear about her request-a single, reckless night. And if that was all he  got, he planned to make it count.

* * *

BY WINNING THE second game, Dani had put herself back in the running  for overall victory. In theory, she was good enough to win their final  match, too. Yet she was having a hell of a time trying to focus. Ever  since she'd returned from the ladies' room, it seemed as if the sexual  tension between her and Gray had grown even more electric, crackling all  around them with its own magnetic pull. He was as wickedly charming as  he'd been all night, but there was no more playfulness in his  expression.

Now, the way he watched her bordered on predatory. He was biding his time but would eventually pounce. And she couldn't wait.

She swallowed, her throat dry with anticipation. She flagged down the  waitress and requested a glass of ice water. Though she was hardly  impaired, three beers had softened the edges of the world. She knew what  was going to happen after this final game, and she wanted to be able to  participate fully, alert enough to register every delicious detail.  When morning came, she didn't want her memories of the night to be vague  or hazy. Especially not if Gray was as good in bed as she expected.

Lost in prurient thoughts, she miscued her shot. She was still  muttering curse words when he joined her, tugging gently at one of her  curls.

"You have quite a mouth," he drawled.

"That a complaint?" she asked, knowing from his expression it wasn't.

"Yes." His gaze slid to her lips. "Because your mouth has been  distracting the hell out of me all night. I'm too busy imagining kissing  you to think straight."

Same here. Except, her imagination hadn't exactly stopped with kissing.

Despite her innate competitive streak, right now, she couldn't bring  herself to care about pool. She wanted Gray's mouth on her, his hands on  her. Since she couldn't seem to find her voice, she met his eyes.

When he cupped her face with his hands, she experienced a giddy rush of  excitement. Even though it had only been hours since they'd encountered  each other at the office, it felt as if she'd been waiting forever for  him to kiss her. His mouth settled over hers, and she parted her lips in  invitation. She buried her fingers in his hair, surprised at how silky  it was. Their kiss was salty and spicy, and her body pulsed with  sensation.

Gray kissed the same way he shot pool, with bold assurance and innate  skill. He speared his tongue into her mouth, his possessiveness nearly  making her moan, then pulled back, teasing, nipping at her lower lip.  She was glad she was balanced between him and the pool table. Despite  mocking his earlier boast that he made her knees weak, the longer he  kissed her, the less steady she felt.

His hands dropped to her hips, and he pulled her tightly against him.  The hard length of his erection was unmistakable. An answering need  pooled between her thighs. As much as she was enjoying their kiss,  suddenly, it wasn't enough. The sensual hunger blooming inside her had  turned ravening.

He must have felt the same way. Lifting his head, he reached for the  eight ball on the table and swiped it into a pocket. "Oops." His  breathing was rapid, his voice strained. "Guess I lose. Ready to get out  of here?"

Wordlessly, she nodded. If she were any more ready, they'd be arrested  for public indecency. A hundred detailed fantasies were bursting to life  in her mind, but they all required the same starting point-getting this  man alone. Immediately.

* * *

IRONICALLY, DESPITE DANI'S urgency to reach the seclusion of her  apartment, the walk across the adjacent parking lots was taking twice as  long as usual. Probably because she and Gray couldn't keep their hands  off each other.                       
       
           



       

The starlit line of trees around the perimeter of her complex offered  far more privacy than a pool hall. Gray spun her into his arms, taking  her mouth in another kiss that made every nerve ending in her body sing  with pleasure. But the pleasure was edged with rising desperation. Her  breasts ached to be freed from their confines, bared to his touch. The  humid spring night around them was silky against her skin, so soft it  was a tease. She needed his calloused fingers on her, needed friction.

She moaned into the kiss, dimly aware that she was rubbing her body  against his. "My place." She tugged his lip between her teeth. "I want  you, but not so badly that I'm willing to embarrass myself in a parking  lot." Only half sure she spoke the truth, she quickened her pace.

With his long legs, he easily matched her stride. "Dare I ask what you are willing to do?"

She could hear the smile in his voice, knew he was kidding, but that  didn't stop her fevered mind from creating vivid images in silent reply.  "Keep up and you'll find out."

It wasn't until she turned her key in the lock that she experienced a  tiny splinter of shyness. Beyond the physical intimacy of what they were  about to do, there was a certain amount of intimacy in simply bringing  him home. She'd leased the place a few months ago, when she was still  engaged, and had never had a man here.

As if sensing a change in her mood, Gray massaged her neck soothingly,  circling his thumb at her nape, applying just the right amount of  heavenly pressure. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Resolutely, she opened the door. "I was just thinking I should  warn you, I'm not the world's most diligent housekeeper."

She flipped on the lamp that sat on a small entry table along with her  mail. It didn't offer much illumination, only a minimal rebuff against  the darkness beyond. Still, it was enough that he'd be able to notice  her habit of haphazardly kicking off her shoes when she walked through  the door. Open-toed pumps and platform wedges were scattered about, some  fallen on their sides like defeated warriors in a mythical shoe battle.  Since she hadn't expected to return from the office with a date, she  hadn't bothered to tidy the client files, property brochures and books  on real estate that cluttered her living room.

"I mean, I'm not a slob," she defended herself. She never left the  apartment with dirty dishes out, and she'd put fresh sheets on her bed  just last night. "But my place wouldn't pass military inspection."

"No worries. I'm not the neat freak in my family. My..."

When he didn't finish his sentence, she glanced over her shoulder and  found him frowning. Nice going, Yates. You had a very sexy man all hot  and bothered five minutes ago, then ruined the moment with your inane  chatter about housekeeping.

"Danica." His gaze bore into hers, troubled. "There's-"

"Sorry," she interrupted. "I don't know why I'd waste a single second  thinking about something like laundry or dusting when I could be doing  this." She stepped toward him, not stopping until their bodies touched.  His hips cradled hers, the heat of him potent even through his jeans,  and her breasts were cushioned against the unyielding muscular wall of  his chest.

She meshed her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Not that it  required any effort. He was already lowering his face to hers. But at  the last minute, he shifted direction. Instead of meeting her lips, he  kissed her jaw and worked his way down the excruciatingly sensitive line  of her neck. He bit gently, then less gently, and she trembled. His  hands palmed her butt, kneading, making her inwardly curse her skirt.  She wanted closer contact, wanted to wrap her legs around him.

He lifted his head long enough to ask, "You're sure? That you want me?"  There was an oddly vulnerable emphasis to his words, but she was too  lost in sensation to analyze it.

He couldn't tell the effect he had on her? Her pulse was thundering,  and she was so wet, she half expected to scent the musky perfume of her  own arousal. Her voice was hoarse but audible. "Never been more sure of  anything."

That was obviously the permission he'd needed. His mouth captured hers,  feasting. The kiss they shared was deep and wet and gloriously carnal.  Not breaking the contact between them, she shuffled back a step with  vague thoughts of her bedroom on the far side of the living room. His  hands fisted in the hem of her camisole. She obligingly raised her arms,  ending the kiss long enough for him to lift the material over her head.

They'd moved away from the slight glow of lamplight in the doorway, but  even in the shadows, Gray growled approval at the sight of her breasts  covered only by pale blue demi cups. He outlined the swell of one  breast, and her nipples contracted to even tighter points. She shifted  her weight restlessly, slick with need. It was inexplicable, how the  delicate brush of his finger over her skin could trigger such a powerful  response. He circled one rigid tip, and she arched her back,  reflexively offering herself up for further exploration.