“I’m sure,” he finally told her. “One. And then we say good-night.”
“If you’re sure. I mean, remember what we talked about the other night, if you give a mouse a cookie…”
“He’s going to say thank-you and walk out the door.”
She studied him, gauging his seriousness, and nodded. “All right, Oliver. One kiss, and then we say good-night.”
They might have shaken hands given the serious way they made their deal. And a deal was all it was.
One kiss. One and done.
God help him.
ONE KISS? Yeah. Sure. Right.
She couldn’t believe he’d really be able to do that, but just in case, Candace was determined to make it a kiss for the ages. She knew from this morning that the man’s mouth was ambrosia, and knowing she was going to taste it again was enough to make her whole body shiver and quake in anticipation.
He noticed, and let go of her hand. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head slowly, inching closer to him on the sofa. Untucking one leg, she didn’t hesitate to make sure he couldn’t change his mind and get up. Giving him a look that was half demand, half plea, she rose onto her knees and slid one leg over his thighs, straddling him.
“Candace…”
“I want my kiss,” she insisted as she hovered over his lap. Maybe the wine was making her bold, but she suspected it was pure physical attraction. If she’d been stonecold sober, she still would have wanted this kiss. This wicked, stolen moment.
“This is a little more than I bargained for,” he admitted.
“You’re not a very good bargainer,” she replied, licking her lips. “You didn’t even try to negotiate any ground rules.”
“Should I have?”
She smiled wickedly. “Probably.”
“I’m guessing it’s too late for that?”
“Much too late.”
He sighed deeply, but she’d swear his eyes gleamed with excitement and amusement.
“Just one,” he reminded her.
“Oh, all right.”
She moved down, lowering herself onto him. Her knees rested on the couch on either side of him, the position very intimate. She could feel the heat and power between her thighs and knew he was already aroused. He probably had been for quite a while, judging by the undeniable hardness straining against his zipper.
Yet he wanted only one kiss? The man obviously had an iron will to go along with that iron shaft.
Her blood pulsed and pooled in her groin. She was unable to resist rubbing against him, just a little, taking the heat, the strength and that hardness, and pleasing herself with it. Their clothes were in the way, of course, but she still felt waves of delight pulsing through her as they ground together.
His flexing jaw indicated he was gritting his teeth, as if striving for control, and she made a promise to herself: someday, she’d make him lose it. That control would be long gone before the day they said goodbye. Maybe it wouldn’t be tonight. Maybe they would just have one single kiss, as he insisted. But someday, she’d have the rest of him, even if she had to wait five years.
He lifted his hands and twined them in her hair, fingering the strands as he pulled her face down toward his. A quick inhalation, two thudding hearts finding a common rhythm, a last glance of certainty and their mouths finally came together.
It was soft, slow and easy at first, a gentle exploration of lips. Giving, taking, molding, sliding, not a hint of demand in it, just a tender, sexy build.
This wasn’t like the kiss they’d shared this morning. It was far more lazy, as if knowing that since one kiss was all they’d agreed on, they both intended to make it not merely the journey but also the destination. It might only be one, but as far as Candace was concerned, this kiss could go on for half an hour and they’d still technically be following the rules.
His warm tongue began to test the corners of her mouth, and she opened for him, sliding hers out in welcome. The kiss deepened, their tongues thrusting together in a deliberate, sultry tango. He tasted warm and spicy, with wine adding even more flavor to his already-delicious mouth. She lifted her arms around his neck, and he dropped his hands to her hips. Digging his fingers into her bottom, he pulled her even more tightly against his erection.
She groaned in the back of her throat, resisting the urge to toss her head back and grind herself into a climax. The kiss deepened as the frenzy increased, and she noticed he was thrusting up slightly, as if making love to her.
Damn their clothes. Damn his conditions.
They might only have one kiss, but he hadn’t said anything about what they could and could not touch during that kiss. So without pulling away she reached for his waist, tugging his shirt up so she could touch and stroke that flat, muscled stomach. He sighed against her lips, but didn’t resist, merely followed her lead. When his hands tugged her blouse free from her jeans and he encircled her waist with his big hands, she wanted to jump for joy.
She settled for continuing to kiss him, turning her head, going deep then shallow, hard then soft.
His strong hands caressed her, moving up to stroke her midriff, then higher, until his thumbs were resting at the edge of her bra. Whimpering and arching toward his touch, she shuddered with relief when he finally scraped those thumbs over her taut nipples, teasing them through the lace. Sparks erupted as he tweaked and toyed with her.
Her cries of satisfaction seemed to urge him on. Without her asking, he pulled the material down, out of the way, so he could pleasure her more, until she was writhing on his lap, almost desperate with need.
But still the kiss didn’t end. It was as if they were both determined to remain true to their terms and see just how far they could go without ever letting their mouths separate.
Pretty damn far, she soon realized as he slid his hands back down her body and unfastened the button of her jeans.
“Oh, yes,” she whispered into his mouth.
She suspected he hadn’t been waiting for permission.
As he slowly lowered her zipper, she lifted herself up a little, giving him access. He pushed her jeans down just enough to allow him to slip his hand into the steamy crevice between her thighs. When those knuckles brushed against her most sensitive spot, she let out a cry, needing so much more.
He seemed to realize she was right on the edge. Thrusting one hand into her hair to cup her head, he deepened the kiss, making love to her mouth with hungry determination. His other hand remained still, but just as she was ready to pound on his shoulders to demand more, he reached under the elastic edge of her panties. Tangling his fingers in the soft thatch of hair, he moved deeper, until the rough pad of one found her clit and began to work it.
Heaven.
Not being able to pull back and look down was painful. But she didn’t want to end the kiss, didn’t want to break the spell, for fear everything would stop. All her senses were on overload as she smelled his musky scent, tasted every inch of his mouth, felt his body pressed against hers, saw his handsome face and heard the small groans of pleasure he didn’t try to disguise.
Just as she was on the verge of coming, he moved his hand away. This time, she did pound on his shoulder, but he responded with an evil chuckle that she tasted as well as heard. When she realized he was moving deeper into her panties, so that he could slide a long, warm finger into her, she forgave him his every sin.
God, it had been so long since she’d taken anyone into her