Waking Up Married(40)
Just jump.
When he looked at her the way he was right then, it made her want to jump too. Made her want everything he was offering. But wanting something didn’t necessarily mean it was right. She had to keep her head.
“Lonely.”
He grinned. “Yeah, well, I also figured you might like a tour of your new home. Some coffee maybe?”
She let out an involuntary moan. “Coffee, yes, please.”
Laughing, he walked over and caught her hand. “My ego’s demanding the next time you make that noise, it’s not going to be because of coffee. Come on.”
In the kitchen, she rifled through the freezer as Connor got the pot brewing.
“I’m not much of a cook, in case I didn’t mention it already, but frozen waffles I can do,” she offered over her shoulder.
Connor closed in behind her, one arm reaching past to swing the freezer door shut. “In a minute.”
Her heart skipped a beat and her belly fluttered.
“Connor,” she warned, taking a step in retreat.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he soothed, catching her hips and backing her to the neat square kitchen table, then popping her up to sit atop. “All I’m after is my previously agreed-upon good-morning kiss.”
Their compromise on physical intimacy.
It had been a point of contention between them, with Megan determined not to let seduction sway her thinking about the marriage, and Connor wanting—well, everything. In the end, neither of them had been interested in the kind of precedent three months of strictly platonic set—trial or not. So they’d settled on a daily kiss count of four, with good-morning, have-a-good-day, welcome-home and good-night kisses to be granted at the corresponding times.
Four. She could totally handle four kisses.
Her body warmed at the knowledge it was time to pay the piper.
Parting her knees, he stepped between them. Leaned in close. Closer. And closer still until he’d braced one hand on the hardwood behind her and wrapped the other around her waist, leaving Megan no choice but to cling to his shoulders.
“One kiss, Connor,” she whispered, already feeling drugged by the sleepy bedroom scent of him.
“One kiss. Any way I want to take it.”
Breathless, she stared up into his eyes. “And you want it on the breakfast table.”
Letting out a low groan, Connor ran the bridge of his nose along the line of her jaw to below her ear. “God, yes. But I’ll settle for the kiss if it’s all you’re ready to give me.”
“Just the kiss.” She’d tried to keep the pleading quality from her tone, but she wanted to be reminded of the chemistry. The magic. What this was leading to if everything worked out. Or maybe all she wanted was Connor’s mouth on hers again.
That cocky smile cranked another notch, Connor’s lids dropping slumberously low. “We’ll see.”
And then she had it. The first soft rub of his lips against hers. The gentle, coaxing hint of the hot demand to come.
God, she wanted this to last.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“NO SEX?” JEFF COUGHED through the line.
Hands tightening on the wheel, knuckles going white, Connor hadn’t missed the undertones of amusement, no matter how his friend tried to cover it.
Glad someone thought it was funny.
“Yeah, I can’t believe it either. But Megan...” He took a slow breath, glancing out over the cliffs down to the ocean beyond before returning his attention to the road in front of him. He’d been so sure he had her with the daily make-out quota, because when they kissed—he slid a finger into his collar, freed the button and loosened his tie—they really kissed. But true to her word, Megan held strong. “She doesn’t want her judgment clouded while she figures things out.”
“Right. I get it. Blow-your-mind bedroom antics have a tendency to confuse priorities. Give meaning to the meaningless. Make things seem ‘special’ when really they aren’t. Smart.”
Connor ground down his molars, not exactly sure what response he’d wanted from Jeff...but certain it wasn’t this.