Page 60 of Prognosis Bad Timing

Carrie could see the haze of lust in his grey gaze and, God help her, she wanted him, too. Wanted his shirt off so she could inhale the scent of his naked skin.

Wanted all his clothes off.

She wanted to smell him everywhere. Touch him everywhere. Kiss him everywhere.

He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her and her internal muscles clenched at the almost savage desire she saw in his gaze.

She didn’t have the willpower to turn him away. But a tiny speck of good sense prevailed. ‘You have to be gone by morning,’ she croaked.

He thought about it for one second. ‘Done,’ he said, lowering his head swiftly to reclaim her mouth.

Carrie grabbed his shirt at the back and pulled it up. His skin. She had to touch his skin. He angled his head so she could yank it off, breaking their kiss. She pushed her face greedily against his chest. His skin was warm and it felt solid and smelt divine as she dropped kisses along the flat plane of his pectoral muscle.

Charlie dragged a breath in as her tongue darted out and moistened his nipple. His groin roared in immediate response. ‘Enough,’ he growled, pulling away. He grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in record time.

Carrie stared at the look of pure desire in his eyes as his gaze feasted on lace-covered breasts. ‘Bedroom,’ she demanded, knowing it would probably be her last coherent thought for the night.

Charlie didn’t have to be asked twice. He swung her up into his arms and strode with her through the apartment thankful his lust-drugged brain managed to remember the way.

He kissed her as he lowered her feet to the floor, his hands burying themselves in her wavy auburn locks. Her moan and the cling of her arms around his neck made him want to take her on the spot. But he also wanted to take his time.

To look at her. To touch her. To lick her all over.

His hands stroked down her near-naked back as his kiss deepened. Her skin was soft and warm and he took his time exploring every inch. He caressed the curve of her waist, his thumb running up and down the concave smoothness. He lingered in the hollow of her back, teasing the flesh, his fingers flirting with the waistband of her shorts.

She moaned against his mouth and he could sense her barely restrained control in the huskiness of her breath and the tremble of her fingers as they splayed through his hair. He was holding her so close he could feel the squash of her breasts hot against him, the lace of her bra scraping against his chest.

He lifted his head. He wanted to look at her. Touch her.

Carrie whimpered as he pulled away. His mouth was like a drug, a really addictive, really incredible drug and he’d just withdrawn her supply.

‘Shh,’ he hushed her, running a finger over her lips. ‘I want to look at you.’

She blushed and was grateful that the only light in the room was from the streetlight outside. The way his gaze devoured her breasts was doing funny things to her breathing and made her knees weak. And then his finger ran along the edge of the lace and her nipples hardened instantly and everything heated inside.

It was incredibly erotic, watching his fingers stroke over the lace, and she swayed, her eyes closing on a swell of longing. And then his lips were stroking heat up her neck and behind her ear, his fingers toying with her bra clasp.

Charlie struggled uselessly with the clasp, his fingers clumsy in his rush to touch. No matter how hard he tried he didn’t seem to be able to unhook the damn thing.

Carrie was so involved with the fire he was igniting along her collar-bone she didn’t even register his trouble.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been a while.’

It took a second for Carrie to figure out what he was talking about. ‘Oh.’ She grinned. ‘I bet it hasn’t been as long as me.’

He smiled back, stroking a stray lock of her hair out of her eyes. ‘Maybe not. But six months is a long time.’

‘Huh,’ she said dismissively. ‘Try nearly five.’

Charlie chuckled. ‘It’s OK, it’s one of those things you never forget.’

She was captivated by his intense gaze. ‘Are you sure?’ she whispered.

He nodded slowly. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking this off...’ He ran an index finger around a lace-covered nipple. ‘I’ll demonstrate.’

Carrie’s hands shook as she reached behind and unclasped her bra, barely able to breathe from the blaze in his eyes. She removed it slowly, suddenly shy. No one but Dana had seen her naked in four years. The urge to cover herself was strong and she raised her hands to cross them across her chest.

‘No,’ Charlie whispered, exerting gentle pressure on her arms, and was gratified when they fell by her sides.

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