Page 62 of The Mistletoe Trap
Don’t think about that right now. Nothing’s set in stone, and you deserve to have at least one night of passionate sex with someone you implicitly trust.
Taking a page from his playbook, she reached for his belt. She made quick work of the buckle and then moved to unbutton his pants. His harsh exhale stirred the section of hair that’d fallen across her forehead and partially impaired her vision.
She shook her hair off her face, and when her eyes latched onto his, she gasped at the blaze burning in the whiskey-colored depths.
Her fingers slipped off the tab of his stubborn zipper, her pinky accidentally dragging down the length of him, and he made a low, gravelly sound in the back of his throat.
“Did you just growl?” Well, that question was supposed to stay in her head. Curse her knack for ruining the mood with her defective filter.
Instead of frowning or shaking his head at her, the way Brad sometimes had done, Gavin dipped his head until his lips were so close to her ear that they brushed the shell of it. “I did, and if you don’t finish what you started, I might just follow it up with a bite.” He sank his teeth into her earlobe, and she moaned loud enough that she worried the entire house might hear.
Not enough to tell him to stop, though.
She pursed her lips and arranged her features into the sternest expression she could manage under the steamy circumstances. “You said you might if I didn’t finish, but then you went and bit me anyway.” She hitched her chin another inch. “Seems like you’re the one who needs a lesson.”
“One sec.” He gripped both sides of her dress and jerked it until it cleared her hips, slid down her legs, and formed a silky, glittering puddle at her feet. Then he slowly straightened, and she held her breath as his gaze roamed over every exposed inch. “I figured this would be easier on me if you were mostly naked, but no promises on how well I’ll listen becausedamn, Jules.”
Never before had she felt so confident without clothing, so she went with it, and haughtily flipped her hair over her shoulder. Who could’ve possibly foreseen that it’d take crossing lines with her best friend to feel sexy?
Well, except for their parents and family, but she’d take that admission to the grave just to avoid all theTold you so’s.
Gavin swiped his fingertips across her exposed abdomen, and she smacked his hand away, earning another growl.
Her stomach drifted up to her throat before tumbling down to the floor next to her dress, and she called upon every ounce of her resolve to draw out this game a little longer. “Ah, ah, ah.” She added a chiding finger. “You have to listen to my etiquette lesson before we return to the fondling portion of our evening.”
Gavin crossed his arms, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she beheld the glorious line of his forearms. “You think you’re pretty smart, wielding your power over me, don’t ya?”
It took her brain a few seconds to process his words, since she’d been imagining that groove in his arm flexing as he put his hands on her. She rewound a few days, to the night in the restaurant when Gavin had been in her ear, playing the expert flirter to her bungling.
She puckered her lips slightly, tapped a fingertip to them, and then slowly dragged her hand down her neck and over the swell of one breast.
“Jules,” Gavin said, his voice gratifyingly low and threatening.
Every ounce of oxygen whooshed out of her at once, and her nipples strained against the lacy cups of her bra. With any luck, he’d be too distracted with other things when she removed the padded strapless bra to recognize her cleavage had been part optical illusion.
Oh no, what if he ends up disappointed?Panic cranked at her lungs, a vise with no mercy.
The other words Gavin had whispered in her ear trickled through her brain. “I’ve got you,” he’d told her. He’d always had her back, as long as she could remember, and her nerves calmed, smoothing out after the tumultuous inner storm.
Which buoyed her enough to resume being the brash woman she could empathically be around him. She stepped just out of his reach and circled, assessing Gavin from each and every delectable angle. He craned his neck to watch her, and once she reached his blind spot, he whipped his head in the other direction.
Her throat worked a swallow at the way he tracked her movements, a predatory gleam in his eye. “When you’re at the dinner table, do you a) discuss gastric mills of lobsters or b) keep the conversation to safer topics?”
“Whatever you want to discuss, I’m always game. You can’t gross me out, and honestly, I find that big brain of yours and all the random facts you fit in there fascinating. But full disclosure, Jules. Right now, your safety is in serious danger.” He reached for her, and she dodged, finding she quite enjoyed playing mouse to his cat.
“Hmm. I expected faster reflexes from a professional athlete.” A squeal escaped as he ducked his head and charged. He scooped her up with his left arm around her middle, as if she had the ball and he was hell-bent on tackling her.
Then all of a sudden, she was weightless and floating through the air.
A giggle escaped as the soft mattress caught her. She flung out her arms, in awe that she was about to experience a lot more than sleep in this very soft bed. Speaking of…
Julie sat up and reached for Gavin so he’d join her already—she was beyond ready to move past the foreplay part of the evening.
But this time, he dodged her. “Haven’t you heard? Turnabout is fair play.”
Julie stuck her lips out in a pout. “But sex. Haven’t we both waited long enough to get laid?” She brought her arms in tight, drawing attention to her amplified cleavage. Then she crossed her fingers that movies had at least gotten the seduction part right, since her former coach on the subject had become her current target.
The cocky arch of an eyebrow accompanied his smug grin. “Trust me, I’m counting down the seconds.” He drifted closer, bracing his left palm close enough to her thigh that she couldn’t help letting her legs fall open another inch, so at least one part of them would touch.
