His eyes scanned her length in a way she knew all too well. One she’d seen plenty over the years—one she didn’t mind at all because she was guilty of the same thing.
Derrick was beautiful to look at. She planned to look without hiding her approval.
At that moment, as he crossed the room, it didn’t dawn on her that even while she was comfortable indulging her libido under these very trying circumstances, normally she’d keep it in tight check.
But tonight she felt giddy and light and pretty and something else that was a song she couldn’t remember the words to at the moment.
Instead, she wiggled a finger at him and winked. “Dance with me,” she encouraged when a slower John Mayer tune echoed from the speakers.
He shook his head, the dark fall of his hair grazing his cheek. “Nope. I don’t dance.”
No was an unacceptable answer tonight, so Martine swayed her way over to him, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him close. “Aw, c’mon,” she coaxed, in a delicious haze of wine and brownies, letting her hips graze his.
All that hard muscle and rugged man made her even more breathless.
She heard him hiss when their bodies met, felt the spark of chemistry, knew she was tempting someone she had no right tempting, but did it anyway.
Derrick’s hands, wide and warm, went around her waist, though he kept them in a perfectly respectable place. “You’ve had too much to drink,” he said all nice and yummy and honorable.
Yeah. That was odd. She’d only had three glasses of wine today, but it felt like much more. Still, she didn’t care. “Are you afraid I’m going to do something I’ll regret?”
“Truth?”
She inhaled his musky scent, intoxicating and all man. “Always.”
“I’m afraid I might.”
A shiver ran along her spine, showing up in the way of goose bumps on her arms. “And why would you regret it?”
“Because you’re clearly under the influence. I’m not a fan of taking advantage.”
Dreamy sigh. So honorable. Martine pressed closer, her nipples tight against the thin fabric of the silk shirt she wore. “I’ve only had three glasses of wine. But what if I told you I wouldn’t mind if you took advantage of me?”
“I’d tell you that’s the three glasses of wine talking.”
“Can I be honest with you?”
His eyes were skeptical, but he nodded, letting his fingers reach up to trace the length of her arm, making circular patterns of heat on her skin. “Always.”
Her brain said stop, but her lips, well, her lips managed to fight off her brain. Rationally, she knew this wasn’t some one-night stand she could hide from come tomorrow. Irrationally? She wanted him—was on fire for him—didn’t care about the consequences.
So she decided on blatant honesty. “Here’s the score. I find you very attractive. The bonus for you is, I don’t get attached. I don’t believe in or want forever—neither do you. But I do want to make love with you. It’s been a long time since I made love. I can’t see any reason why we shouldn’t pass the time we have together amicably, can you?”
“I can think of a million, but you’re trashing all of them with that damn skirt,” he said gruffly, tucking her closer, letting his lower body move in time with hers. “So name your terms.”
“Terms?”
“The rules of engagement outlined in black and white.”
How could she do that when his hand was tracing the crease in her thigh? “Um, we agree to make love until this thing is over and then we go back to our lives?”
“No hard feelings if one of us isn’t into it?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t imagine not being into Derrick ever. “Meaning?”
“Well, let’s say you’ve had a stressful day, and you’re tired—”
She put a finger to his lips to squash that notion. “I’m never too tired. I warn you, I have a pretty healthy appetite.”
“So you like to initiate?”
Her hand strayed to his abdomen, caressing him. “I’m not shy,” she whispered, letting her lips graze his, shivering when his tongue slipped out to tease her mouth.
“Good. Me neither. Anything you don’t like?”
“Mushrooms. Not a fan.”
Derrick laughed, the rigid outline in his jeans pushing at her lower abdomen. “I meant in the bedroom.”
“Then always open for discussion. Unless you want to wear a diaper and call me Mommy. Not open for discussion.”
Derrick’s beautiful face crumbled in mock sadness. “Dream crusher,” he said on a laugh. “Seriously, if I never promise you anything else, I can promise diapers and moms are off the table. I like good old fashioned lovemaking.”