Page 71 of The Love Interest
“Well, now you don’t have to.” She’s so cute when she’s snippy.
She huffs. Polishes off her glass of wine. “Do you have grated Parmesan?”
“No, just the fresh basil.”
“That’s fine.”
“I know.”
She frowns at me and then turns to make salad dressing.
I stare at her ass in those jeans and let the silence between us make her even more uncomfortable. I can’t bring up school, even though I’m dying to ask how her semester finished out. I want to ask her about her upcoming schedule. I want to ask how her novel’s coming along. I want to know how wet her panties are because I bet they’re really wet right now.
I finish my glass of wine, lick my lips, stay where I am by the island.
She moves back to the sink to wash her hands. While rinsing them, she glances up at the window in front of her. She sees my reflection. I’m about five feet behind her. Her big brown eyes lock with mine in the window. She turns off the faucet. I comb my fingers through my damp hair, never taking my eyes off her reflection. She reaches for the dishtowel, and when she’s done drying her hands, she grips the edge of the counter.
She stares into the sink again, and I can’t tell if she’s aware of my approach, but when I place my hand on the small of her back, she turns to face me. Reluctant but resolved. I hold her face in my hands. She’s glaring at me, staring at my mouth. She presses her hands flat against my chest but doesn’t push me away. Her fingers curl, gripping my T-shirt. I let her stare at the exposed chest hair where the neckline of my shirt is being pulled down. The string orchestra is reaching a crescendo. Her breaths are uneven, getting faster. I wait until her thick, dark eyelashes flutter and then cup the back of her head, bringing her in for a kiss.
She is hesitant at first, even as her lips part for my tongue.
She tastes like wine, but despite what I just drank, I feel completely sober this time. I am going into this with a clear head and an open heart. There will be no regrets.
I kiss her so deeply, her knees give out. I catch her and lift her up onto the counter. She wraps her legs around me, kissing me with renewed vigor. Then she bites my lower lip and pulls back.
“I’m still mad at you.” It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself, more than me, of this.
“I’m fine with that.”
She grabs the hem of my T-shirt, yanking it up. I raise my arms and let her pull it off over my head, toss it aside. Her eyes widen as she slides her hands down from my shoulders to my pecs, exploring my chest hair. There isn’t a lot of it, but she clearly likes what I’ve got.
I pull her shirt off over her head. She’s wearing a bra. A pale-blue bra that pushes her tits up. I take a bite of that smooth, soft flesh and then kiss and lick her all the way up to her neck, to a spot just below her ear. I kiss her lips again, unhooking the back of her bra and getting my hands on those nipples.
She sighs into my mouth and whispers, “If you don’t fuck me this time, I will never speak to you again.”
“I will fuck you so many times you won’t be able to speak.”
She kisses me all over my face, so frantic and almost happy. “I’m not going to ask any questions, but—”
“I want you, Fiona. I want you, and I’m not asking you to wait for me. I’m yours. Now. Whether you like it or not.”
She releases a beautiful, joyful little laugh, and then my mouth is on her tits. She leans back, wraps her arms around my neck. I have never wanted to devour a woman like this before, but tonight is about showing her that I am in control of my senses. Tonight, I will savor and cherish her.
Okay, I’m not completely in control of my senses when my mouth is on her tits, but I know what I’m doing. I know what I want. I want this. Every day and every night.
She straightens her posture, runs her fingers through my hair, holds me to her. It’s nurturing and sexy, and I am falling so hard for this woman.
“I want you.” My tone is somewhere between desperate and forthright. “God, I’ve always wanted you.” My voice catches in my throat before I can say anything else. I can only show her how I feel now. Desperate and forthright. It’s how I’ll always feel about her from now on—I’m sure of it.
I lift my head to kiss her mouth again. That mouth. Nothing will stop me from kissing this mouth. I find one more word for her. “Baby…”
She gasps and rests her forehead against mine. “You called me ‘baby.’” She plants grateful kisses all over my face again. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. She licks my lower lip and then reaches down to cup the bulge in the front of my pants. “Emmett…you’re so hard.” She sounds genuinely surprised by this.
“Don’t you know what you do to me?” My hands are all up in her silky brown hair, sliding down her arms to her hips. Almost all of the tension in her body is gone already. She really does like sex, I can tell. She needs this as much as I do.
She captures my earlobe between her teeth and then says with a throaty voice, “Show me.”
I carry her to the living room and try to decide how I will show her first. Placing her down on the sofa, I expect her to lie back. I unbutton my jeans, but she reaches for the zipper and tugs them down for me. She barely waits for me to step out of them before stroking up the length of my erection through my boxer briefs and then pulling the waistband out so she can reach inside.
