And dear God, the orgasms, he gives me. Based on that alone, I can understand why women chased him.
“Bliss,” he murmurs.
“Hmmm?” is all I can manage to say, because I’m afraid I’ll blurt out more than what I can handle.
“Ready for bed?”
“I don’t want to move.”
He strokes the side of my face. “It’s almost midnight. Way past your bedtime.”
“I don’t have a bedtime.”
“No sleep is only for the wicked, and since you’re the sweetest girl I know…”
I sit up, brushing my hair out of my face. “I can be wicked.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
He touches my face again, lingering by corner of my mouth. “Maybe I like you sweet.”
“You don’t like sweet. I remember all the girls you took back to your hotel room and your bus. This afternoon I wasn’t sweet at all, not when you had me—”
“About that—”
“You like wicked, naughty, and experienced. I can be like those other girls, but you’ll have to keep helping me with the experienced part.” I straddle his lap, but before I can touch him, he grabs my wrists. “What?”
His blue eyes burn bright. “I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.”
“I’m your wife.” I lower my mouth to his, but at the last second he turns his head and I kiss his cheek.
“Not like this.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and cold rejection washes over me. “’Kay.”
His breath is hot against my skin. “I’m not saying no to you, just the location. It’s bad enough that your first time was by the pool, for God’s sake, and then this afternoon.”
My stomach drops. “What was wrong with this afternoon?”
“Nothing. Everything.” He groans, his head falling back for a minute. “You deserved a soft bed, roses on the mattress, and time. Lots and lots of time for me to kiss you everywhere, to stroke your body until you couldn’t take anymore and were begging me to make love to you. That’s what should have happened and it didn’t.”
My breath begins to quicken. “Why? I’m no better than anyone else. And for the record, I loved what happened.”
“So did I.” He leans back, gazing into my eyes. “It’s not about better or worse. It’s about expectations. Those groupies—they expected one thing out of me, and nothing else. It wasn’t romance or commitment—well, maybe a couple of them did. All they wanted was to be fucked by a celebrity.”
“As for you,” he adds, in that seductive voice of his. “I want you to forget about everything you saw or thought you saw happening with me and those females. I want your expectations to be so much more, and I’ll meet them. I swear it to you. Can you do that for me?”
“Only if you can.”
He cups the side of my face and says, “I don’t remember any woman before you.”
My heart almost jumps out of my chest. “You mean it?” I want to slap my hand over my mouth for asking such a thing.
As if he’s going to tell the truth and say, “Well, Bliss, there was this one girl in Wichita who could put her feet behind her ears.” Or something like that. Maybe he’ll laugh it off.
My chest tightens as I wait for answer. Then I give up waiting. “Never mind. That was a stup—”
“Let me show you.”
He pushes off the couch and stands, his strong arms taking me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist, and his hard length hits me in just the right spot. Gasping, I let my head fall back. His tongue flicks at my throat.
With every step, our bodies bump together. At one point, he groans, then I feel the wall against my back, and his lips are on mine.
Oh God, can he kiss. I have no idea if what I’m doing is right. So I do what I’ve done each time we’ve kissed—I follow his lead. But when his tongue touches mine, I gasp and forget all about following, or if I’m doing this right.
I simply kiss him. I memorize his mouth, the texture and shape. I learn what makes him growl low in his throat and what makes him kiss me back harder.
He breaks our kiss. “We have to get to the bedroom.”
“Okay,” I agree and claim his lips once more. His fingers dig into my thighs and I whimper, not in fear… but in want. In excitement.
We start moving again and before I know it, he’s laying me down on his bed. I hold up my arms. “Come to bed with me.”
Tenderly, he removes my glasses and kisses my forehead. I frown, letting my arms fall back to the bed. Then he kisses each of my cheeks, lightly. Almost like he’s saying good night.