Oh, that sounded unwise. And tempting.
“Since when is dinner ever just dinner? I’ve been alone too long to sit through polite small talk.” Since her marriage had fallen apart, she’d given up couching her words in social niceties.
“You think you’ll be bored?” Warren was clearly on another wavelength since that wasn’t at all what she’d been thinking.
She couldn’t help the short bark of laughter that escaped her lips.
“Not likely.” Her gaze locked with his and she felt herself being pulled closer. Willed closer. But she didn’t know who was doing the willing.
“Then what does being alone have to do with you not being able to make it through dinner?” That soft scrub of his fingers shifted from her hair to the back of her neck.
“Besides sending the wrong message about my dating availability?” Maybe she should have taken him up on dinner. “I’m way too impatient to sit through chitchat when all I want—”
She still couldn’t quite put it into words. She trailed off as his fingers sought a path down the curve of her neck to her shoulder. The cardigan sweater that had seemed respectable enough when she answered the door now gave him access to bare skin since she’d left the top button undone.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be coming undone next.
“What do you want?” he prompted, steering her gently back to the conversation they’d been having, the one in which she’d almost admitted to dark desires for a downtown detective.
Her heart pounded so loudly she couldn’t hear herself think through the noise. No. Admit it, Tabitha. She just wasn’t thinking at all.
“I don’t know about you. But I really only want dessert.” The sordid truth of the matter sat between them for only a moment before her confession ignited something explosive.
She arched up to him, drawn to him and unwilling to pretend she wasn’t. She wanted this man. Badly.
Lips parting, she kissed him. Sensation rippled through her chest, fluttering down to her belly and tingling outward.
For long moments, she simply breathed his air, her mouth hovering lightly against his. He didn’t press her, didn’t touch her anywhere except that feather-light caress of his hand on her shoulder.
He tasted like peppermint. The scent mixed with the vanilla lip gloss she’d put on at some point that day. Courage growing along with the liquid warmth threatening to swallow her, Tabitha couldn’t wait any longer to test the texture of the rest of his mouth. Her tongue came in brief, hot contact with his lips, darting along the fullness of the middle before she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her whole body against him.
He surprised her by breaking the contact, pulling back when she’d been debating another move forward. Had he realized she’d been about to tackle him? The twinge of disappointment startled her as much as the way her heart jumped in nervous rhythm.
“You’re agreeing to dessert then, right?” He relinquished her shoulder to smooth his way up her neck and cup her chin. “I want to make sure we understand each other before we go any further.”
“You want clarification?” Her fingers reached up to touch the open collar of his shirt and she remembered how he mentioned not liking people with false facades. Lucky for him, she was all too glad to be honest about this. “I’m interested in exploring this attraction wherever it leads, but I’m not going down the path of dinner or drinks or a standing Friday-night commitment for all the orgasms in the world.”
“I’ll make sure not to bother you on Fridays.” A hint of a smile twitched his lips before he ventured near again, but now that Tabitha had found her voice, she couldn’t seem to silence it. She had to share one more, very important thing.
“But if we’re going to follow this where it leads, could you do me one small favor?” She pressed her hand to his chest at the last minute and got to experience the solid warmth of him.
Her hand splayed against his heart.
“Name it.” His heart hammered quickly beneath her hand in a way that fascinated her. Flattered her even more.
“Just be careful you don’t touch any more than my lips until we’re ready to take this to its natural conclusion.” She’d always had intimacy problems. Bad timing with her…er, climaxes. “I’m sort of a sexual powder keg after too many nights alone and—” deep, steadying breath “—I think I have a pretty sensitive trigger by now.”
4
A STUNNINGLY BEAUTIFUL WOMAN who was a self-proclaimed sexual powder keg wanted a no-strings relationship with him?
Warren had to check his horoscope to see if all kinds of planets were aligned because this kind of thing did not happen to him. His world was a brutal place, not some red-hot fairy tale with a curvy siren in a starring role.
He studied Tabitha in the crimson glow of the lamp. Was it just the light that suffused her cheeks with color as he leaned closer to align their bodies without touching?
Her eyelids fluttered once, twice, then closed as she tilted her chin to meet his mouth. The need to feel her skin, to hold her steady while he kissed her, rode him hard. He remembered the silky warmth of her when he’d stroked up her neck earlier, and he wanted to indulge the feel of her again. But a good man follows a woman’s rules, right? Even while he did his damnedest to ensure she wouldn’t want to follow them for long.
He just needed to make her touch him, and then all bets were off for the kind of restraint he needed to show today. Lips grazing hers, he sampled the vanilla-tinged flavor of her mouth more deeply, lingering in the places that made her squirm in her seat.
A blessedly easy task.
She sighed in the back of her throat, her hips tilting ever so slightly closer. He could tell because her body radiated heat as surely as she radiated sex appeal and every millimeter closer she got spiked the temperature in the room.
He really shouldn’t take this too far tonight since their conversation had been tinged with the attraction they’d both been feeling. Didn’t he owe her a sort of cooling-off period to make sure this was what she wanted? Not that he could necessarily walk away from her anyhow, but his sense of fair play suggested he should. But next time…he’d take her up on that dessert offer, by God. His blood was slamming through his arteries with excessive force. He couldn’t tell if he was burning from the inside out or the outside in anymore. His swim training didn’t do half the number on him that her kisses could.
Just when he figured he’d have to call uncle and admit defeat, Tabitha busted the “no touch” rule in spectacular fashion by wrapping her arms around him and drawing him down on top of her. Her breasts were suddenly pressed against his chest, the soft swells straining the buttons on her sweater as much as they strained his crumbling reserve. They’d been sitting on the couch, but now they listed to one side in an effort to connect as many square inches of their bodies as possible.
It had been too long for him. He’d hardly dated since a divorce that was a hell of a lot older than hers. Three years. A few women. None of them like Tabitha.
She guided his hand to her cashmere-covered breast and that cooling-off period started to sound like a load of crap. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, and that blew his mind. Her full breasts pressed against her clothes and toward his touch. Everything about her was soft and warm and he needed to lose himself inside her, surround himself with that kind of warmth. He popped two buttons free on her sweater before diving beneath the fabric for a handful of fragrant feminine flesh.
And she was fragrant. He’d been curious about the scent of her since he’d caught the hint of clean soapiness about her skin on the set. But the hollow between her breasts held another kind of perfume, sweetly exotic and all the more intoxicating because the knowledge seemed secret somehow. He breathed