Page 46 of The Twilight Theft

“No more standing still.” She pulled in a long breath, like when she’d initially entered my kitchen. Her fingers threaded into my hair. “Kiss me.”

I pressed my lips to hers, finding her tongue eager for mine. Not sugar. She tasted like red wine. Like complex and full-bodied Barolo-tinged perfection. I slipped my hand lower over the roundest, tightest ass I’d ever felt in my life.

As we continued to explore each other’s mouths, a wave of heat spread through my body. Her tentative touch turned firm, fingers digging into my scalp, while her other hand balled into a fistful of my apron.

Why was I still wearing the apron? Why hadn’t I turned the news off? The food, my clothes, the wine—and I’d forgotten the music.

Although it didn’t seem to matter.

I tangled one hand in her hair while the other continued learning her curves.

She moaned and stepped forward, pushing me toward the table. Our tongues tangled in a frantic dance, and I picked her up, her legs effortlessly swinging around my hips. She wanted me, exactly how I wanted her.

Hard.

Fast.

And now.

The bedroom was too far away. I had to get to the couch. Had to get her clothes off. Had to taste her.

Her hands were in my hair, teeth raking my lips.

On our way, I pulled the curtains closed—maybe closed—I didn’t pay enough attention. I rounded the couch and eased down, settling her on my lap.

She ground down hard, her arms wrapped around my neck. “It’s been too long.”

That answered my earlier question—there definitely wasn’t another man sharing her bed. I leaned my head away, taking in her swollen lips and hooded eyes. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“You’re so full of shit.” She lifted on her knees and hauled the apron out from between us. “Take this off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I untied the apron and removed it, keeping my eyes locked with hers as I threw it away.

“And the shirt.” She curled her fingers under the hem and pulled it up, her lips touching my chest while the shirt covered my face. “I was betting on more chest hair.”

I finished stripping off my shirt with her eager help. When I could see her again, the heat pouring out of her was palpable—she liked what she saw. I grabbed the hem of her shirt. “May I?”

She dragged her fingers through my hair and kissed me, her hips continuing to stroke my hardness. “Yes,” she said against my lips.

“No more standing still. I like that line.” I pushed her shirt up off her body, barely able to contain my groan at the sight of her curves. Her bra was black, but not a hint of lace. It was utilitarian, exactly like I’d known it would be. My fantasy in the shower had gone from fully clothed to fully naked, but going through the steps, one by one? A thousand times better. I traced my fingers over her small breasts, and I had to move closer, kissing along her collarbone, taking one breast in my hand to squeeze.

“Drew,” she groaned, writhing under my touch.

I wrapped an arm around her and pivoted us, landing her on her back on the couch. I crawled down her body, licking along the edge of her bra and kneading her thigh. My tongue danced over the top of her waistband, and her hips rocked up, demanding more. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

Jayce cupped the back of my neck. “Get up here and kiss me again.”

“I need to be inside you.” Still, I inched my way up, easing down one bra cup to roll her nipple in my mouth. I sucked hard, pulling it taut, until she whimpered. “We need to get this out of our systems.”

She tensed underneath me. “What?”

“If you’re even half as distracted as I am every time we’re in the same room together...” I undid the button of her jeans, revealing the sexiest pair of unassuming black cotton underwear I’d ever seen. I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t expected this tonight.

A high-pitched beep broke my focus. “Shit.”

Jayce edged up on her elbows. “Is that the oven timer?”

“It is.” I dropped my head to her abdomen and kissed it. “Don’t move. I just need to take something out and I’ll be right back.”

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