Page 51 of The Best of Friends

“That would be great. I could bring some inventory and get their opinions.”

“Okay, then. I’ll call them and get some dates.” Her friends and David in the same room. It would be interesting. Scary, but interesting. “Now, what about everything you bought? You’re not keeping it all.”

He shrugged. “I might. It gives me a place to start.”

“You’re seriously thinking about selling jewelry that doesn’t cost more than a house?”

“Why not? It makes good business sense to expand. Some companies worry about tarnishing the brand name with inexpensive products, but that won’t hurt us. We’re already the best. Everyone knows that. We’ll have to run the numbers. There’s a financial break-even point, and we need to stay on the side of profit. One of the reasons I’m back is to start taking over the business. I’m not interested in more of the same. To grow the market, we have to expand it. You had a good idea. Did I thank you for it?”

“No.”

He stood and then pulled her to her feet. Still holding on to that hand, he tugged her close, then cupped her face, and stared into her eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmured, right before he kissed her.

His mouth was warm and tender, yet firm against her own. Even as she absorbed the sensation of his lips on hers, his fingers lightly stroking her cheeks and the heat of his body engulfing hers, the rational side of her brain told her that this time she couldn’t blame the kiss on his slipping. He’d been pretty damned deliberate about the whole thing.

She raised her arms, then dropped them, not sure what she was supposed to be doing. This wasn’t arealboy-girl kind of kiss. She wasn’t going to react. Except it was very difficult not to lean in when he kept his lips against hers, moving slightly, sending those tingles racing through her body.

When he dropped his hands, she prepared for him to pull back. She wasn’t going to whimper or beg. She would be a total adult and—

Both his arms came around her and drew her against him. Suddenly, they were touching from shoulder to knee, and her hands were on his shoulders—lightly, so she didn’t bang him with her cast. Involuntarily, before she could even stop herself, she tilted her head, as if this was a real, honest-to-God kiss. Then his mouth was moving against hers. She felt the light stroke of his tongue against her bottom lip. Her lips parted because that’s what was supposed to happen next.

Then they were kissing like in the movies, and she felt herself slipping into passion. David was solid and safe in a world that was melting from the inside out. She hung on because she was afraid of falling, although she was careful not to clunk him on the head with her cast. He slid one hand to her hips, then down to her butt. Instinctively she arched against him, shifting her belly closer. She brushed against something hard and thick.

It was him.

Pleasure filled her. Not just liquid need, but satisfaction. No mercy kiss ended with an erection. He wanted her. David Worden wantedher.

Later she would tell herself it was just a guy thing. Pavlovian and meaningless. But for this moment in time, it was magic.

She gave in to the kiss, losing herself in the tingles and desire surging through her. When he finally stepped back, they were both breathing hard.

“Nice,” he said.

She smiled. “I’d say the same, but the last time I said you were nice, you got all hysterical on me. You were practically shrieking.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’ve got attitude.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Want dinner?”

What she wanted was sex, but apparently that wasn’t going to be offered. He was sensible, as well as nice. Who knew?

“Dinner sounds good,” she said.

Time in his company, she thought happily. She would take as much as was available, enjoying every moment, until she left for good.

Jonathan pushed in deeper. “Are you close, baby?” His eyes were wide and slightly glazed, his mouth open.

Rebecca could feel his hot breath on her face. She squeezed hard, hoping to force him over the edge and get finished already.

“I’m there now,” she breathed, forcing herself to pant slightly, then moaned. She squeezed again, pulsing in what she hoped was a good imitation of an orgasm.

Apparently it worked. Jonathan thrust one more time, then collapsed on top of her. She endured the dead weight for about ten seconds, then pressed on his shoulders. He rolled off her.

“God, that was great,” he said, stretching out next to her, then reaching for her hand. “You’re amazing.”

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