Page 95 of The Making of Marnie Jones

“I put my hands on your upper arms to pull you closer to where we’re almost—almost—touching. Then I move my hand to cup your cheek.” He cupped her chin with his hand and used the pad of his thumb to brush the soft skin across her cheekbone. “Then I'm going to tip your head gently, moving toward you, and brush my lips against yours. Does that sound okay?”

She nodded.

“I need you to say it.”

“Yes.” The anticipation was going to kill her, but she appreciated his need to have her verbally provide consent. “That sounds nice.”

He gently tilted her head.

The first touch of his lips was whisper light. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. His head blocked the sunlight, so she could look into crystal-blue eyes, pupils dilated. Arousal?

“More?”

“Yes, please.”

Again, he moved in.

She closed her eyes. This time, he applied more pressure. His lips were warm and smooth, and when he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, it sent a shiver down her spine. She knew the next step and opened her mouth.

Expecting a thrust, he surprised her with a gentle easing. His tongue slid along hers and coaxed her. Welcomed her.

Desire.

Her body reacted, urging her to take more. A soft moan rumbled in her chest. Her fingers kneaded his muscles like a kitten at her mother's breast. There was a certain comfort when his tongue became more insistent—demanding of her a mating dance of sorts. Something in her chest expanded and broke open. Longing, and something less tangible, crowded her thoughts. Was there more? This much was okay, but what if he wanted to take it a step further? Would she have the courage to follow him on this journey, or quit before this got started?

In the end, he pulled away. Breathing heavily, he placed his sweat-slicked brow against hers. “That was nice.”

“Is it always like that?” Her breathing was labored as if she had run a marathon.

He arched an eyebrow. “Yes and no. Yes, it might always be that good, and no, because it's possible for it to get even better.”

“Better…” Soft. Hopeful.

“Better.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “But that's enough for the first time.”

“Why?” Her mind was fuzzy.

He smiled widely and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Because I want more, and you're not ready for that.”

“More?”What…?“Oh.” Despite her desire to be urbane and sophisticated, she wasn’t. Wanting to be like the other women he’d been with wasn’t enough to make it so.

“I'm a red-blooded man, Marnie, and you are a beautiful woman. I have control of myself and will never ask more from you than you're willing to give.” His gaze was serious. “You understand that, don't you?”

“I do.” She steadied her hammering heart. “And thank you.”

His face broke into a grin. “Darlin', I should be thanking you.”

“Why? That kiss wasn't a first for you.”

“But it felt like it. I've never tasted anything as sweet.”

Yeah, right.“You’re just saying that.”

He snagged her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I promised you I would never lie to you, and I'm not doing that now.” His gaze held her steady. “Clear?”

“Clear.” She whispered the word, and then said it with conviction, “I believe you.”

And she did. If it was half as special for him as it had been for her, his truth was unquestionable.

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