Page 68 of A Chance for Us
However, the way he’s staring at me now—full of heat and longing—causes my stomach to flip.
His sculpted chest and broad shoulders are everything I love in a man. Strength radiates from him, and I want to drown in it.
“Oliver,” I say, moving back up to his face. “You are so damn hot.”
How any woman could let this man walk away is beyond my understanding.
I push that thought away because he’s here. He’s mine now, and I have at least five days of fun in my future.
I trail my fingers down his chest and bite my lower lip.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, his hands going behind my back, pressing our bare chests together.
“I know I want you. I want this. I want to figure out whatever this is between us.”
He rubs his thumb against my lower lip. “And then we walk away.”
I make a soft moaning noise as I kiss his neck, unable to stop myself.
“Say the words, Maren.”
I look into his deep blue eyes. “Then we walk away.”
Oliver’s smirk is cocky and sexy at the same time. “That’s if you can walk when I’m done with you.”
“Do your worst,” I toss back.
“Challenge accepted.”
I don’t have time to draw a breath before he has me flat on the bed. I squirm, but he pulls me closer. His lips are on mine in another searing kiss before he moves down to my chest. His hands are everywhere, touching, kneading, squeezing, and caressing. It’s sensory overload, but also heavenly.
His lips trail to my breast, where he kisses and licks around the tip before taking my nipple in his mouth. I cry out, hips bucking off the bed as he sucks greedily. His tongue moves back and forth, flicking it before I feel his teeth nip the delicate skin.
“Oh, God!” I cry out as his hand moves down my body before slipping under my borrowed shorts. When he finds no fabric underneath, he groans.
“Fuck, Maren. You’re not wearing underwear?”
“I . . . I don’t usually.”
“So, you have none packed?”
I shrug a little. “Not really.”
“Thank the Lord above.”
He tears the shorts off my legs and throws them across the room.
I don’t have so much as a moment to feel exposed before he’s kissing me again, tasting his way down my stomach before going lower. “I’ve wanted to do this for days now.”
“Days?” I ask.
“Weeks, if I’m being honest. Since I saw you again, I’ve wanted to touch you. Then there was that kiss. By yesterday, I thought I might go insane. There you stood in that white dress, so beautiful, smiling at me as if I were some goddamn hero.”
I press my hand to his cheek. “You are my hero.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You have no idea how I feel about you.”
