Waking Up Pregnant(13)

                She couldn’t afford to lose sight of that because her pride wouldn’t allow her to be one of those women who pinned all their hopes on the wealthy, jet-setting billionaire realizing the “good time” he picked up in Vegas—the city whose tourist industry had made a slogan of the promise that what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas—was actually the woman he’d been waiting for his whole life.

                No. The only way she could give in on any level, was if it was on her terms. With her eyes open and her expectations clear.

                There was no tomorrow with this man.

                “A lot of questions in those eyes tonight, Darcy.” Jeff said, brushing her cheek with a single knuckle. “But there doesn’t have to be. Tell me you’re ready to call it a night and I’ll take you home and thank you for an evening I won’t soon forget. Or we can keep doing what we’ve been doing, without taking it any further at all. Stay up until morning. Watch the sun rise.”

                His eyes held hers as he asked, “What would you like to do next?”

                Her heart raced. He was giving her a clear out. The easy goodbye.

                She could tell him good-night. Take a cab home to her packed-up apartment. Sleep snug in the knowledge she’d cut things off before they’d gone too far. Before she gave in to the risks that pushed her beyond the boundaries of safe.

                Or she could answer with the truth. That something about being with him made her ache for things she never wanted. Made her body shiver and heat. And most of all, want to grab hold of this moment and just give in to it. Surrender.

                She reached for the open neck of his shirt and, letting two fingers curve into the gap between the button and plain white T-shirt beneath, pushed to her toes to meet his mouth with her own.

                It was the barest of kisses. The lightest brush. Separated from a friendly peck only by a quiet, lingering beat promising what she hadn’t found the words to say. Words she didn’t need, based on the satisfaction in the eyes meeting hers as she stepped back into her own space. The wolfish smile as Jeff shook his head and, taking her hand, tugged her back against him.

                “I’ve been telling myself no all night, Darcy,” he murmured gruffly into her ear, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “If you’re saying yes, that little kiss isn’t going to be enough to tide me over until we get back to my room.”

                Her words were barely more than a trembling whisper. “Then you better take what you need now.”

                When he kissed her again, there was nothing tentative about it. Nothing friendly. It was firm and commanding. A decadent back-and-forth press of his lips against her own, deepening with every pass until she’d opened to him completely.

                He licked into her mouth, his tongue gliding over hers in a wet velvet rub that had her fingers tightening in his shirt and a helpless whimper betraying her desire.

                Her knees must have given out because he was holding her against him, supporting her in his powerful arms as he kissed her like she’d never been kissed before.

                Senseless.

                Breathless.

                Taking her with the firm thrust of his tongue and—oh, that was so good—then again and again, until every part of her turned liquid and hot.

                Needy.

                Alive.

                Another deep thrust and her belly twisted with a sensual hunger threatening to make her its slave. She’d been starved for this.