Page 71 of Tempting as Sin
When he’d sung…that had been amoment.Something to hold close, to bring out and look at again the way you’d hold a polished shell in your palm, long after the ocean had receded from view, and remember the sight and sound of it, the salt tang and the cool touch of the water. A memory, rare and precious.
As for the lingerie? That was an indulgence. Yes, it was. But maybe she needed another treat, too. Maybe she needed to take every bit of the pleasure of this day, wrap herself up in it like a cashmere robe, and let herself own it. She had sinful desires of her own, and she had a good man in the next room who was more than happy to help her satisfy them. She was going to take all of it.
When she emerged into the reception area, Rafe was leaning against the wall, holding his T-shirt in one hand, wearing dusty jeans and a collared Western-style shirt and looking as relaxed as she felt. She had just about enough energy to smile at him, and he smiled right back. Crinkles around his blue eyes, and warmth in his face. Not just another beautiful actor.
She could have apologized for keeping him waiting, but she didn’t. She just said, “Thanks, Andy. That was amazing. I don’t get to do it enough.”
“Any time,” Andy said, and Lily headed out the door with Rafe behind her.
She took him down the alley instead of around on the sidewalk. She wanted him to hold her hand. She wanted him to kiss her in that alley if he felt like it. But he didn’t.
She used the back door of the shop, locked it once they got inside, and didn’t say anything she’d planned on. She didn’t ask him whether he wanted a cup of tea, and she didn’t even ask him whether he’d enjoyed the float. She just dropped her tote to the floor, stepped into him, pulled his head down, and kissed his mouth.
Feel this.The warmth of his body, the sweetness of his mouth on hers. The size of the hand cradling the back of her head, and the strength of the arm that circled her waist.
When he dropped the T-shirt he was holding and his mouth strayed to her neck, she managed to say, “Uh…take this off,” and to start undoing his shirt, too. When she did, she sighed with pleasure. Itwasa Western shirt. Meaning it fastened with snaps, and whatever men thought about the pleasures of undressing their partner slowly? Personally, she wanted it to happen faster. She wanted it to happennow.
Pop.One snap open, and she was pressing her lips to his chest and pulling on that shirt some more, yanking the tails out of his jeans, then getting her hands in there, popping the rest of the snaps one after the other, and sliding her fingers over the warm, deliciously muscled skin of his back. Her hands were greedy for him, and as for him? His lips were still at her neck, and she was shuddering.
“Hang on,” he said, his voice coming out strangled. He stepped back, yanked off his boots and socks and that shirt, and then he was wearing only his jeans. Rafe in jeans was pretty much a perfect sight, but she didn’t just want to look. She wanted tofeel.
He said, “Hang on,” again, then took her hand, opened the door to the shop, and pulled her over to the fitting area. To her pink velvet husband-couch, where he’d sat once before and wanted to kiss her.
The shop window was right there, just around the corner. Pedestrians going by on their way for coffee, for appointments, for business or for pleasure. Stopping to look at the displays, wishing they could go inside, could look and touch andhave. And here, only a few feet away, it was just the two of them, a couch and a carpet and a three-way mirror.
She’d barely thought it when Rafe sank down onto that couch, pulled her down into his lap, smiled into her eyes, and said, “Oh, yeah. One pretty girl. One lucky guy.” His hands were at her hair, and he was pulling out the elastic. Carefully, so he didn’t hurt. And when her hair fell down, he sighed.
“Wet,” she said.
“Oh, baby,” he said, “I hope so. But if not?” He kissed her again, long and slow, his hands under her hair this time. “We’ll work on it.”
His chest was so hard, and his arms were so wonderfully strong. She could sit there and slide her hands over him forever.
She wasn’t the only one who could take off clothes, either. He had his hand on the first bow, the one at the shoulder of her pink dress, and now, he pulled it, and she felt the material fall back.
His lips at her shoulder, soft there. “This is pretty,” he said, pulling another bow open and running his hand down her arm, then back up again, making her tremble.
“My…” She was having a little trouble with her talking. “My shop dress. For when I want to be comfortable, when I’m here late. Almost a robe.”
“Mm.” His hands went to her waist, and he said, “If you straddle me, you’ll make my fantasies come true.”
She kicked off her slides along the way, and then she did it. Settling in over him on the couch, then kissing him, her own hands wrapped up in his clean hair. She could take off his jeans, but selfishly, she didn’t want to. She wanted to sit here and feel desired while he undressed her, one careful bow at a time. He wanted to do it, too. Wasn’t that wonderful?
“Was that what you were thinking today?” she murmured into his ear, then bit him gently on the lobe and moved her lips on down his neck.
“Could be,” he said, and then he was pulling another bow open, all the way to her waist now, and sighing. “And I’m just going to get to untie bows all the way, aren’t I? You showing off the stock, baby?”
“Yes,” she said, kissing his neck some more. “Showing it off to you.”
He had the last bows untied, was shoving the dress to the floor.
When he realized everything she’d chosen, she felt it. His hands had run all the way down her hips and closed over her the curves of her bottom. Where they stopped. He said, “Don’t tell me. Bloody hell.”
He was looking in the mirror. She could tell. Normally, she’d have been self-conscious about that. He was watching his hands slide luxuriously over the lacing at the back of the high-cut briefs, and she watched his face and couldn’t feel one bit self-conscious. He loved what he saw, and he loved what he felt even more.
His fingers traced every single bit of lacing, and she forgot to watch his face, because she’d closed her eyes. No words, now. Whatever happened, it was going to be something she wanted.
He kept one hand on the laces. With the other one, he slid the hook-and-eye closure on a bra cup. Slowly. Perfectly. And when he bent her back over his arm and took that breast in his mouth? Well, yeah. She was making noise, but there still weren’t any words happening. No words at all.
