Page 12 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster)
He loved the fact that he could provoke that pretty pink color in her cheeks with just the right words.
Iris walked on in silence for a moment, then surprised him by stopping on the sidewalk and turning to face him. “Thank you.”
“I told you, I’m fine in the cold.”
“Not for that,” she said. “For…” She glanced at her friends up ahead, then back at him. “I never got a chance to thank you for that night.”
Ah. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Iris.”
She glanced down at her hands, clutched around her purse. “I do. I—” She seemed to struggle to form the words she wanted, but Jamie waited patiently, wanting to hear them, wanting to know her every thought. “I’ve never told anyone exactly what Kirk said to me that night. I never wanted anyone to know.” She met his eyes, uncertainty in hers. “I hated for a long time that you’d heard them. Hated that anyone knew what he wanted of me.”
He stepped close, his hand rising without thought to cup her cheek. “What he wanted is on him, Iris, not you. It’s a reflection of his own internal lack.” He rubbed his thumb up and down her soft skin. “You are everything you need to be, just as you are.”
Her eyes closed, and she leaned into his touch. After a moment her spine stiffened and she opened her eyes. Determination filled them.
“Jamie?”
“Hmm?” Those pretty gray eyes drew him in, stealing his words.
And then she spoke again, and his voice deserted him completely.
“Would you kiss me?”
Six
She knew she should resist. She’d known from the moment she walked into the restaurant and saw him standing there next to their booth. She’d had too many thoughts about Jamie Worthington since the night she’d left Kirk, and more than one fantasy. His presence endangered the sanity she’d barely managed to stabilize since the divorce.
And still, despite the way her heart stuck in her throat, threatening to strangle the words she wanted to say, she whispered, “Would you kiss me?”
Jamie’s eyes went wide, and he hesitated. Embarrassment flooded her. See? You’re not made for dating. Talk about out of practice—you’ve never been in practice at propositioning a man.
He doesn’t want to kiss you.
That’s what you get for being so forward.
“I’m sor—”
Before she could finish her apology, he swooped down and his lips met hers.
Iris’s breath stopped.
His lips felt unfamiliar. She was so used to… No, she didn’t want to think about him right now. She had asked for this, and she wanted to savor it.
Savor? With sudden alarm she realized she was just standing there as if frozen, unmoving, stiff. What must Jamie think?
You’re a ninny. Stop being a ninny. Take the chance while you have it.
She relaxed against him. Without thought her lips parted, just the slightest bit. An invitation. Come in. Let me taste you.
Taste me.
Jamie’s scent filled her senses—something spicy that she couldn’t put a name to but adored nonetheless.
How long had it been since she’d reveled in the scent of a man, in the feel of his body against hers? Too long. Jamie’s chest was wide, his body heavyset but not fat. He felt hard, tough, like he could protect her from anything that came their way. She slid her hands against his sides, leaning in until her breasts flattened against his ribs.
And then his tongue breeched her lips.
Sensation zinged from her mouth to her breasts to her core, at once powerful and oh so startling. He tasted of the wine he’d had with dinner, and she opened wider, letting him in, encouraging him to explore. Her tongue tangled with his. Her nipples tightened, and she couldn’t suppress the urge to squeeze her legs together, adding pressure where it felt the best.
