Page 83 of Fairy Tale Lies
She needed distance before she did something inappropriate. Like, say, ripping off Jacob’s clothes and taking him on the hallway floor.
“My truck’s in the garage, and I got my dad and brother tickets for the Pistons.” He leaned in and ran his lips along her neck. Delicious shivers sailed across her spine. “I wanted you all to myself tonight.”
“Perfect.” Her hands glided down his body, and her fingers curled around the waist of his jeans, pulling him flush against her. “God, Jacob, I’ve missed you.” She kissed him again.
She sounded and was acting desperate. She didn’t care. She was.
Groaning, he stepped away. “You able to hold back until after dinner?” His mouth spoke of food. His eyes flashed a different kind of hunger.
Moving away from him and his intoxicating scent, she inhaled deeply. The house did smell amazing. “Whatever’s cooking smells delicious.” Her wicked side was in full control, and she gripped him through his jeans. “I can hold off for a bit if you can.”
He ground out, “if you keep doing that, I’ll have you for dinner.” Taking her hand and sliding his fingers through hers, he led her toward the kitchen.
Once through the archway, he pointed to a bottle of sauvignon blanc resting on the table. “Dinner’s almost done. Want a glass of wine while we wait?”
Greta nodded, unable to speak. Love swam through her veins, coming to rest behind her eyes, making her blink back tears of affection.
He’d remembered her favorite wine but hadn’t stopped there. Jacob had transformed his kitchen into a romantic dream, one that’d make any woman’s heart flutter and beg for his love. Small tea candles lined the counters, and two large pillar candles in simple silver sconces sat in the table’s center, bathing the room in dreamy soft light.
He reached for the bottle of wine, and she tracked his sinuous movements. Her gaze landed on an overflowing vase of flowers next to the glasses. She squinted in disbelief.
Lilacs.
How had he managed to find her favorite spring flower in the middle of winter?
She took a deep breath, getting a lungful of herbs and culinary heaven. It helped calm the overwrought emotions threatening to spill from her eyes. “Oh my, if whatever you’re cooking taste like it smells, Will might have competition as the best Grimm cook.”
Jacob stopped twisting the corkscrew, eyes gleaming with humor. “I’d like to get that in writing.”
He returned to the cork and, seconds later, there was the quiet pop of it. Jacob leaned in, pressing against her, grabbing two glasses. His nearness sent tingles of want pulsating south. She yearned to wrap herself around him, to have him naked and buried deep inside her.
She settled for placing a light kiss on the pulse of his neck.
He took a small step back, licking his bottom lip as he poured, making her crave a taste of his mouth over the wine. Handing her a glass, he took a deep swallow from the other then granted her unspoken wish. He kissed her deep and hard, giving her a high no alcohol could ever provide.
He tasted of wine and lust, a potent combination that made her throb for him. She drew him closer, and, from the way he deepened the kiss, dinner was no longer his overruling hunger.
Yes.
His tongue explored her mouth, and she scooted onto the table, wrapping her legs around him. An overheated whimper of need escaped when their lower bodies made contact. He slid his hands under her sweater, taking it off.
He kissed her through the thin, lacy bra. The one she bought specifically for tonight.
“Where do you find your bras and panties? They aren’t made from silk and thread, but sex and sensuality.” He trailed kisses from one breast to the other before unhooking the front clasp.
Starved of his touch, she lit like a pile of gasoline-soaked kindling. He rubbed his jean-clad erection against her, his hands and mouth exploring her breasts. It had her squirming against him, begging for release.
He pulled away. She reached for him, not able to bear the separation.
“Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’m not going anywhere.” He picked up his glass, letting the sweet wine fall gently across her chest. Her back bowed at the unexpected pleasure of liquid cooling her overheated skin.
He bent and leisurely licked and sucked the drops from her breasts.
She discovered the true meaning of hedonism.
“Jesus, Greta, if I could bottle the taste of you and wine, I’d be a millionaire,” Jacob murmured between caresses, sucks, and nips.
He continued his exquisite torture of licking and feasting, while managing to remove her clothes. The man was talented.
