“It’ll wash.”
“It’s not your only good shirt?”
“No.” Though most of his clothes were in storage while he sorted out where he’d live in Belclare.
“That’s good.” She reached out and yanked his shirt open, sending buttons flying.
“Abby?”
“I’m living in the present,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to do that, but until you, I haven’t been inspired.” Her hands, warm and soft, flattened against his bare chest. “Tell me you’re surprised. Please?” She pressed up on her toes, her lips brushing fleetingly against his.
“Surprised?” Then he remembered her words last night in the truck. “Oh, yeah.” He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, the silk of her shirt an enticing, filmy barrier against his skin. Slowly, taking his time instead of just taking, he lowered his mouth to meet hers.
Her lips were soft and needy, and when her tongue stroked against his it was sweeter than it had been last night. She tasted of the deep red wine she’d had at dinner, a dark, sultry counterbalance to the crisp pine and sweet roses scenting the air.
She pushed the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Reluctantly, he released her to shake free of the binding fabric. He was nearly ready to beg, desperately eager to learn everything about her body, about how well it would fit with his. He wanted to discover what she liked and more, what made her absolutely crazy with passion.
Her hands molded and caressed his arms while he feathered kisses along the side of her neck, nipping gently at the warm curve of her shoulder.
She tempted him to rush with her kisses, her touch and her soft sighs. “Abby,” he whispered against her skin. His blood pounded through his veins. If there had ever been another woman, he couldn’t remember it.
There was only her, here and now in this moment. He skimmed his hand up her ribs to cup her full breast. With a moan, she arched into his touch and he felt her nipple pebble against his palm. He couldn’t wait to taste her.
He heard the soft purr of a zipper followed by the rustle of fabric as her skirt fell to the floor. Ready to protest as she stepped away from him, the view stole his breath and he couldn’t form the words. Lace-topped stockings caressed each thigh and the creamy skin above invited a thorough exploration.
She came back to him and wound her arms around his neck. He hitched her up until those long thighs circled his hips. He turned, bracing her back against the wall. Happily, he’d take her right here, or on the couch—hell, even the steps looked good.
All of the above. All in good time.
He carried her to the couch and sank into the cushions, her legs straddling his thighs, all of her open to his touch. He peeled away her shirt and trailed his fingers along the straps of her bra. When he unhooked it and let the lingerie fall away, he held her, learning how she wanted to be touched.
He set out to show her how beautiful she was to him. How she made him feel so wanted. Skimming his hands over every inch of her flesh, he showed her what she meant. He pulled her close, taking first one breast then the other into his mouth, teasing her soft flesh with tongue and teeth. Her palms were braced on his shoulders, and her little moans were sweet encouragement.
She shifted away, bringing her mouth down to his. The kiss turned into a sensual dual as her tongue slid across his. Her hands cruised over his chest and lower until he was rocking his erection into her delicious touch.
As she opened his slacks, taking him in hand, he slipped a finger under that lace and found her wet, hot and ready. Need surged through him. “Abby.” He raised up, stripping away his clothing. The only remaining barrier was her panties. With a wink, he reached out and tore them away.
Wearing only her thigh-highs, she came over him, gliding down slowly until she’d taken him fully inside her. He waited, holding back by some miracle, while she set the pace. It was worth the wait—when she moved it was heaven. Gripping her hips, he met her body with each stroke, until her climax shuddered through her and around him, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.
His release came a moment later and she dropped her head against his shoulder, panting and snuggling close as they floated back to reality.
After a few minutes she shifted again. “Told you the couch is too small.” She stood up, keeping his hands in hers. “Come share my bed.”
He didn’t know it was possible to go from completely sated to all-out need in the span of one staircase, but it happened.
When they reached her bedroom her tender kiss ignited an encore performance that stole his breath. Spent, her body felt as pliable as butter sprawled across his chest. He heard her whispering softly against his skin but couldn’t make out the words. “What was that?” he asked.