Page 136 of Holding On To Good

No, there would be no changing her mind. No going back.

This moment, this night, was all they had. Tomorrow, things between them would return to how they’d always been. Their partnership could withstand one mistake. Their friendship was strong enough to survive one reckless night.

Her heart was another matter entirely.

Urban’s mouth moved over hers, hard and insistent and when he licked her lower lip, she opened for him, greedy for his taste. Ran her hands up his arms, from wrist to elbow to bicep to shoulder, then back again to slide under his shirt, desperate for the feel of him.

Kissing him, touching him, was a dichotomy of textures; soft lips, silky tongue and coarse beard. The hard, tense muscles of his chest and stomach and the smoothness of his skin. The rough calluses on his fingertips as they skimmed her jaw and the gentle hold of his hand along her throat as he nudged her head back so he could press hot, moist, open-mouth kisses along the side of her neck.

Her head fell back against the wall and he suckled the sensitive spot just below her ear. They’d never gotten around to turning off the floor lamp and the light permeated her closed lids. They hadn’t even made it out of the living room. But the idea of moving now, of heading upstairs, of not having his mouth and hands on her, was unthinkable.

Even if moving meant darkness and a bed.

Besides, she really, really wanted to know what those things were, the ones he wanted to do that didn’t require them lying down.

She reached over toward the lamp, her fingers brushing the switch when Urban slid his free hand to her shoulder then down the length of her arm, until he got to her wrist.

And gently pressed her hand to the wall.

Her eyes flew open to find him watching her.

“No more hiding.”

Hiding. That was exactly what she wanted to do. To hide in the dark. To pretend they were just two bodies taking and giving pleasure. Two strangers who could go their own way when it was all said and done.

No consequences. No recriminations.

And he knew it. He’d maneuvered them here, to this spot where they were out of view of the windows and door, giving her the privacy she’d wanted.

Leaving this light on was his way of keeping one thing for himself.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart racing. He knew her too well. Saw through her too easily.

Wasn’t that the problem?

Or maybe the problem was how excited she was to be pinned against the wall by him, like a butterfly held in place with that hand on her wrist, the other hand spread wide over her collarbones. How she wanted him so badly, she was willing to risk almost anything to have him. Even if just once.

To prove it, she let her arm relax, stopped trying to reach for the light.

A concession. A small but clear one, and he took it as such, letting go of her wrist and taking a step back. Then he reached out and took a hold of the hem of her shirt. Slowly lifted it, his glittering gaze taking in each inch exposed; her belly and waist and torso. The back of his knuckles brushed the bumps of her ribcage and her stomach hollowed.

He stopped just below her breasts, her shirt fisted in his hands and she lifted her arms.

He pulled the shirt up, the silky material rubbing against her beaded nipples, sliding over her heated skin. He slowed the movement, careful not to get her earrings caught as he tugged it over her head.

Leaving her naked from the waist up. Exposed. Vulnerable.

Too vulnerable. She didn’t have that much bravery, not enough to stand before him in just shoes and jeans, so she started to raise her arms to cover herself. He shook his head and she stopped, keeping them by her sides.

He took his time, looking his fill until it was as if she could feel his gaze moving over her. And when he finally touched her, his calloused hands cupping her bare breasts, her body undulated, a wave of longing for more.

He met her eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

I’ve always thought you were beautiful.

She wasn’t. Not in the technical sense, anyway. She was cute with her crazy hair and thin body, all long, lean lines instead of curves.

But Urban was looking at her, a combination of lust and awe in his eyes, like she was a gift to him. And for the first time in her life, she felt truly beautiful.

---