Page 52 of SEAL by Fate

“Yes.”

“Will you dance with me?” He lifted a brow.

Her heart fluttered at the idea of being in his arms, bodies pressed together, and she was afraid she’d make a fool of herself by asking for him to make love to her. “Sure.” She downed the rest of her wine, laid her hand into his, and he helped her up. He led her several feet to the open area of the floor and he circled his arms around her waist as if he’d done it a thousand times before. She situated her hands on his broad shoulders, enjoying how his muscles clenched under her palms.

Remembering how he’d teased her while they were stuck in the car, telling her in graphic detail how they’d make love and soon. Yes, she wanted that and now. He grazed the tips of his fingers over her exposed skin and goosebumps awakened, scattering her arms. His free hand settled at the base of her back, his strong fingers pressing into her muscles, stimulating her senses.

Good thing he couldn’t see through her clothing because her nipples were hard and her panties were wet. She was excited…beyond excited. Without thinking, she lowered her head and kissed the dip of his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

They moved as if their bodies were in synch. She should have known dancing would be no different than the other connections they had together. Strong and bewildering. There was no man she’d ever met that seemed this close with her.

Lowering her hands down his back, she felt the powerful muscles beneath the T-shirt and a soft moan reached her ears. She liked knowing that she could do this to him—knowing that he felt the attraction too.

He stroked her back with his fingers, moving slowly to her arms, around to her stomach, grazing his thumbs along the underside of her swollen breasts. She became the guitar and he was the guitarist. Her limbs and torso were the strings. Sweet, gentle music played from her body.

“Ah, Gray. How do I become so lost with you?”

“My hands, they want to touch all of you, roam over each delicate, soft curve and dip. I can’t help myself.”

She kissed his skin again, this time rolling her tongue along his neck. “How did we get here?”

“We drove.” He chuckled but it fizzled.

“You know what I mean.”

He lifted her hand and kissed each knuckle. Then he turned it over and his tongue darted out to lick the center of her palm. “Yes, I understand what you meant. There are some mysteries in life that we’re not supposed to understand completely.” He took the tip of her pinky between his lips and suckled gently.

She sucked in a breath, quivering and wobbly. She’d never had her fingers sucked on before and she liked it. A lot.

His gaze met hers and she held it, then lowered to take in the curve of his lips, how beautifully they were rounded, meant for her kisses. “This is all crazy, a whirlwind, but I can’t help myself. I want you to make love to me.”

“Sweetheart, I would love—”

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