Lacey grinned, helpless against his charm. As they squeezed onto a park bench at the water taxi port, she savored the feel of his body where it pressed against hers. She desperately wanted to lean closer, to be closer, to feel the warmth of his lips and his chest pressed against her.
A furnace igniting inside of her, she remembered the feel his solid arms around her, lifting her, that first day they met. The sensation of his fingers in her hair. His light touch on her cheek. She ached for that moment again, only this time, she wanted it naked, skin-to-skin, his mouth on hers.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to calm her senses, but to no avail. Every part of her seemed somehow more alive just being close to him.
A small, brightly lit boat docked in front of them.
Mick extended his hand to help Lacey down the narrow stairs that led onto the boat. Her heel caught, and she stumbled into Mick. His grip was firm on her arms, and they froze, their mouths only inches apart. The feel of his warm breath caressing her lips sent shivers down her spine. Paralyzed in his gentle hold, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his.
“Excuse me!” An impatient tourist anxious to board the water taxi behind them broke the spell that seemed to have been cast on Lacey.
Mick shot Lacey an amused look and whispered in her ear, “Damn tourists.”
They eased into their seats, side by side, and watched the image of downtown Annapolis fade into the distance. The taxi motored along, dodging in and out of moorings that bobbed on the water. His arm pressing against hers again, she could feel the tension in his muscles. Such power in this man, she pondered, wondering what it would feel like to have that power inside of her. She felt herself grow wet at the idea, and the heat between her thighs ached for his touch.
“So, how do you feel about having a baby in the house?” Mick’s attempt at small talk was just the cold shower Lacey needed.
Feeling her temperature drop to normal, Lacey pursed her lips together thoughtfully. “I haven’t even had time to digest the idea. It’s just something we’ll deal with together, I guess.”
“Do you want to have kids of your own?”
“Me?” Lacey shifted in her seat, enjoying the way her thigh pressed against his in the act. “Well, I’d like to get my career on track first. But maybe. How about you?”
“It’s a possibility,” he answered noncommittally.
A sudden cold gust of wind had Lacey impulsively snuggling closer, stealing his heat. She glanced up, almost in apology, and a lock of hair blew across her eyes. As Mick lifted his hand to put the lock in its rightful place, his hand caressed her cheek.
His light touch was all the encouragement she needed. Without thinking—finally, without thinking—she leaned in, raising her mouth to his in silent plea. Go ahead, her heart whispered as the warmth of his lips met hers, gently at first, then with a searing passion.
Tilting her head, she savored him, breathing in his musky scent. Her hands splayed across his chest, stroking the rippling muscles. Half-growling in response, he pulled her onto his lap, and she felt the sweet pressure of his erection against the seat of her capris.
The heat between them radioactive, his grip tightened, his hands immersed in her hair. Her pulse raced at the feel of his chest and arms enveloping her, consuming all her senses. She opened her lips, full of wanting, her mouth fierce upon his.
Tasting him, she was desperate now, silently requesting—no, demanding—that they take the next step. She needed to feel him on her, inside of her. She needed it more than any damn real estate listing.
Her mouth devoured him, sending every signal she knew to tell him: Now. Take me now. Anywhere. Anyhow you please.
His breathing ragged, he traced the line of tender skin at the base of her neck downward to her back, and then grasped her arms like he would never let go.
Their port coming into view, the water taxi’s horn blew. Mick inhaled sharply at the intrusion and he drew back suddenly from Lacey.
“What?” Lacey asked in a frantic hush, shattering inside from the parting of their flesh.
“I’m sorry.” He let out a muffled string of curses. “You laid out the rules, and I slipped. Damn, you just look so gorgeous tonight.”
“But I—”
“No. I really am sorry.” His voice adamant, he forced a laugh, glancing down at the strappy sandals that Maeve had traded with Lacey earlier that evening. “Happens every time you wear heels.”
“Maybe I should wear heels more often, then.”
Her comment made Mick gnash his teeth. “Great friend I am. Give a girl a couple glasses of wine, ask her if she wants to have kids, then move in for the kill. Talk about sending the wrong signals.”