Page 62 of Someone to Have
“Then we’ve got a deal.” I hold out my hand.
Eric takes it and tugs me closer. “You sure about this, Tinkerbell?”
“I am,” I answer with a confidence I don’t feel. Look at me flexing those acting muscles. “We can decide on a time for?—”
“Now,” he says and lifts me across his lap until I’m straddling his muscled thighs.
My breath catches when I feel his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. Sweet baby Jesus. “We should probably think about?—”
He brushes his mouth across mine, then groans when I sink lower. “No more thinking. Or talking.”
Not that I can do either with his lips working their magic. He kisses me like we have all the time in the world, sipping and savoring. He tastes like sugar and strawberries, and will I ever be able to eat my favorite comfort food again without thinking of this moment?
Then the kiss deepens, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. Those giant hands reach up to cup my face, tilting me to an angle that gives him better access. I’m swept away like we’re out on theopen ocean. My need for him is a wave crashing over me again and again.
Now. That one word echoes through my brain. This isn’t just kissing or touching. It’s going to lead to more. Because I asked for it.
I should be nervous, but all I can think is yes…more…please…more.
“Patience, Tinkerbell,” he murmurs against my skin and I realize I spoke the words out loud.
It’s hard to be patient when I have an idea of the pleasure that’s coming. When every kiss and nibble sends sensation pulsing through me. His hands wind through my hair, and suddenly, I can’t get enough.
Eric makes me feel wanted just the way I am. I want to capture that feeling and carry it with me for the rest of my life.
He grips my face until my eyes flutter open. “Tell me you want this. I need you to say the words.”
“I wantyou,” I whisper on a soft exhalation, then add for good measure, “Now.”
“Thank fucking god,” he says and stands up with me in his arms.
I cling to him as he strides down the hall to my bedroom, and I can't stop the way my heart swells at how carefully he holds me when I know this is just supposed to be physical.
He tears away the quilt and lowers me onto the bed. I pull my sweater over my head, my gaze never leaving him as he strips away his shirt. His jeans and boxers follow a minute later, and my mouth drops open.
Muscles bunch and ripple across his chest. My eyes catch on the tattoo I’ve seen glimpses of that wraps around one firm bicep. It’s some sort of geometric design, and through the lust making my mind hazy, I tell myself to remember to ask about it later. His whole body is strong, hard, and so ready that my breath whooshes out of my lungs, desire pooling low in my belly.
I’ve had a couple of boyfriends over the years, but nothing prepared me for this man. A hint of a smile plays around his mouth as he watches me watching him. “You can’t leave me standing here all alone like this. I want to see those matching panties, Tinkerbell.”
I reach for the waistband of my jeans, then still. “I don’t know about…I mean, my body isn’t like yours and?—”
“Praise the lord for small favors,” he says with a laugh, coming toward me. The look in his eyes is unmistakably predatory, and the air between us sizzles and pops like a bonfire that could singe me if I get too close.
His hands slide up my legs then he bends forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of one nipple through the delicate fabric of my bra as he unzips my jeans and pulls them down my legs. He leans back when he reaches my knees, his gaze roaming over me with an appreciation that makes my breath hitch.
“Pink lace.” His voice is rough and reverent. “You’re seriously trying to kill me, Tink. You are so beautiful and I plan to get familiar with every perfect inch.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed,” I murmur, then squeeze my eyes shut as heat rushes to my cheeks. It sounds like I’m fishing for a compliment, which isn’t part of the coaching strategy.
Eric’s voice is firm yet gentle. “Nothing you do could disappoint me, Taylor. I want to touch you. All of you. But only if you’re sure.” He leans in and drops slow, open-mouthed kisses along the edge of my panties, like he’s giving me time to change my mind, to pull back if I need to.
“Open your eyes,” he demands.
I do, and the intensity in his sends a shiver through me. As he pulls off the lace fabric, I can’t help myself—I sit up and reach out, running my palm across his taut stomach muscles and up the hard planes of his chest. His heartbeat beats strong and steady under my hand, grounding me in this moment, making it real.
A slight grin tugs at my lips as I watch hisdark eyes flame hotter the longer I touch him. He swallows, his breath ragged, almost a groan as I graze my fingernails along his skin.
He’s giving me time to let me get my bearings and take control of this moment. That understanding melts something deep inside me. And the knowledge that he wants me as much as I want him gives me the courage I need to pull him closer again.
