Tempting(52)

“I don’t know what we’re doing, Adele. I don’t know how to stop, but I don’t know how to not worry that this is such a hellishly stupid idea.”

Her hand traced up my forearm, and through the cotton of my shirt, I could feel the heat of her palm. I kept my eyes closed, because everything was heightened. I could smell her next to me, coffee clinging to her, hiding her normal scent. The place that her hand smoothed up against felt like a concentrated pulse, just one large zing of electricity that I could never attempt to contain.

On the side of my neck, her breath warmed the skin. Then her lips touched the spot under my ear in the most innocent of kisses.

“You worry too much, old man,” she whispered, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “No one will know.”

“You can’t possibly know that.” Shit, my voice sounded rough.

Her tongue dragged around the shell of my ear, and my cock was seriously attempting to punch through my slacks. I kept my hands fisted at my sides, not wanting to interrupt whatever fucking amazing thing she was doing.

“We can be careful, be quiet about this.” The sharp edges of her teeth caught my jaw and my mouth turned toward her in reaction. Her responding chuckle was lazy and low. Suddenly, her weight pitched to the side, toward me, and she settled herself on my lap. “In fact, I think I should show you just how capable I am of being quiet.”

When I opened my eyes, her face was only inches from mine, her hands bracketing my head on the back of the couch. I slid my hands up her legs and her sides, curving my palms around the hard bumps of her rib cage.

“You have much more to lose than I do. Are you sure about this?”

The smile she gave me in return was so sweet, so unguarded that I smiled back. We kissed that way, not dropping the sides of our lips at first, not wanting to break those expressions of happiness.

Finally, she caved, tilting her head and opening her mouth to mine. Her tongue swept against mine in one long, wet stroke and I groaned, tightening my hands around her. I stood, and she squeaked into my mouth, but wrapped her legs tightly around my waist. Adele wound around me like a python, and we kissed all the way up the flight of stairs.

Once I cleared the top step, I hesitated, pulling my mouth away from hers.

“How about we shower that coffee smell off of you before bed?”

“We?”

I nodded, took her lower lip in between my teeth and tugged while I walked us into the bathroom.

After I’d lowered her so she could sit on the bathroom counter, neither of us spoke. I tested the water with my hand, her eyes boring into my back, as tangible as a bullet through my skin.

She’d unzipped her sweatshirt already, and I stilled her hands before she could remove the shirt underneath.

“Let me.”

And she did. Every inch of skin that I uncovered, I tasted or smelled. The thin, hard line of her collarbone felt like steel under my lips. The slope of her shoulder held some of that scent that I’d come to love so much, so I lingered there a little longer than I’d planned.

Adele let out a soft whimper when I finally slipped her shirt completely off.

“You’re supposed to be quiet,” I gently reminded her, no heat present in my tone. She nodded, dropping her forehead to my shoulder so I could reach the clasp of her bra more easily. With the shower running behind us, the air was wet and heavy, steam curling around our bodies while we curled into each other. The straps of her bra slid down her upper arms and caught when she held the cups to her breasts, the heavy skin and beaded nipples still partially hidden behind the lace.

I lifted her up so that she had no choice but to stand. Lowering myself to my knees onto the cold tile floor, I placed a slow, open-mouthed kiss on the skin just below her belly button. The room was so warm now, almost stifling in its heat, but she shivered, goosebumps pebbling her stomach.

Adele toed off her shoes, and I peeled her pants down her forever-long legs, my mouth following down the toned flesh of her thighs. Once she was uncovered, bare before me save her underwear and the almost-falling-off bra, I stood, digging my hands into her hair and tilting her face up to me.

We traded languid kisses, just moving our lips over and over. Her hands made quick work of the buttons on my shirt, only slowing their movement as she tracked down my chest, lingering over the clenching muscles of my abs. Each drag of her fingers made me want to move faster, touch harder, dig into her skin.

But I didn’t. There was some unspoken agreement we’d made coming up here together. A shift in the way our bodies wanted to move, wanted to feel and be felt.

Finally, I used one finger to pull the bra off of her completely, taking the tip of that same finger to smooth over the tight flesh of her nipple, making small, slow circles around the edge. Her hips shifted toward me and I pressed back, letting the painfully stiff length of my cock grind against where she wanted me most.