Lauren mirrored his pose, unclipping her seat belt to sit sideways. “Are you saying you don’t want to have sex with me?”
Good Lord, he enjoyed the woman’s directness. “No, ma’am, I’m saying you have options, not that I’m stupid.”
Her wide grin cracked through his good intentions. If she got out of the car and walked up the stairs to his place, all bets were off. But he could handle being a gentleman.
For five more minutes.
“Would you like me to be clear?”
“Crystal.”
“In the interest of total clarity, I’m going to walk up those stairs, go into your apartment, take off this dress, and ask you to make hot, wet, passionate love to me. If that’s all right with you?”
Yep. He adored the little details, like brutal honesty.
He shut the engine off, killed the lights and exited the car to jog around to help her out before she could change her mind. Hand in hand, they dashed up the steps. Her smothered giggles were damn infectious. At the door, he managed to get the key in the lock and open it before remembering he’d left his jacket tossed over the back of the simple dining room chair and a stack of files that he planned to read when he got back.
“One minute?” He grinned and slipped inside to clean up. It took less than thirty seconds to hang the jacket in the coat closet and set the files on the top shelf out of sight.
She laughed when he opened the door fully to invite her in. Her gaze skimmed the room with its sparse furnishings, brown leather sofa, coffee table and lamp, but wasted little time in dropping her purse on the entry table next to his keys and kicking off her heels. Two bookshelves framed the fifty-six inch flat screen and her perusal hesitated.
James kicked himself.
She’d spotted the DVD collection.
Her smile grew wider and her eyes actually teared up a little.
“Hey.” Concern overrode the mild embarrassment and he cupped her cheek with his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“You were totally serious about liking my movies.”
“I couldn’t stand most of your movies. I just liked you.”
She swallowed. “Wow.”
“Truth be told, I don’t know that I care about those anymore. The real you is a hell of a lot more interesting than the woman on the screen.” He would have said more, but she rose up on her tiptoes and then her mouth was on his. James sealed the kiss, lifting her up and taking his time, tongue delving against her teeth to stroke hers.
He tasted the sweet flavors of coffee and cheesecake and thrust his tongue deeper, trying to capture the decadence of female. Slender fingers dug into his shoulders. Her nose rubbed his, tendrils of her hair teasing his face.
Her breasts rubbed against his shirtfront and as much as he loved the champagne gown, it had to go. Smoothing his hands over the silk, he roamed the smooth swell of her bottom, shaping it until his hands cupped her firmly and lifted her, dragging her sensuous weight up his body. Walking her back to the bedroom, he drew her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling before drifting kisses along her chin to her ear.
“If this is a dream, don’t wake me.” He tugged her earlobe with a playful nip and entered the sparse space he called a bedroom. The only concession to his exodus from active duty was the king size bed that accommodated his six foot four frame and let him sprawl. A nightstand held his clock and a lamp for bedtime reading, but he hadn’t even bothered with pictures on the wall, or a television.
Not that he planned to watch anything tonight. Next to the bed, he set her down, careful not to just shred the dress. Impatience pushed through him and with only the light from the front room slanting across the bed, he rested his forehead against hers.
“Last chance.” He wanted to strangle the words. But it never hurt to be sure.
“Okay.” She stepped back, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe we should put the coffee pot on….”
Stomach plummeting, he nodded slowly. He’d asked. It was why he asked. It would be too easy to get swept up in the emotion of the moment.
“I’ll go get that set up.” He turned, allowing enough time to control the disappointment in his expression.
“James.” Her voice, coupled with a swooshing sound, halted him. Glancing over his shoulder, his throat locked. The champagne dress pooled at her feet. His gaze rolled over the long, tanned legs, the tapered waist and thin scrap of black and white tuxedo-colored thong, and higher still to the curve of her perfect breasts, small mounds of curvy flesh crowned by pink nipples.
Without the window dressing, she seemed so much leaner, so much more fragile, a goddess carved of delicate coral.
“I thought….” His brain struggled to reconcile her request with the long-legged siren crawling onto his bed to sit on her knees, her delicate eyebrows arched and a mysterious smile on her lips. She crooked a beckoning finger.