Her mouth curved. Her eyes went soft. “Were there a lot of reasons?”
“I made a list.”
She giggled, the tinkling sound sliding over his skin, helping him wrench himself back under control.
Then she bit her lip again, her eyes taking on a slightly guilty expression.
“What?” he rasped out.
That gorgeous mouth parting, the shuddering exhale drifting over his skin. “I made a list, too,” she said, all soft. And close. She was close enough that the floral smell of her shampoo drifted over him, mixed with the damp earth scent of the garden, the humid perfume of the morning air.
His hand clenched on her thigh, and she jumped.
“Sorry,” he murmured, relaxing his hold, not wanting to ever hurt her.
“No.” She placed her palm over his, squeezed lightly. “It felt good.”
More heat. More dick twitching. More of his control fading. More of his plan disappearing into so much smoke.
Jaime traced patterns on her silken skin, feeling goose bumps rise from the contact.
“Aren’t you going to ask about my list?” she eventually asked.
Her pupils were dilated, that tempting fucking mouth too close, but there was also mischief in her gaze, warming the brown of her irises, and he wanted her to feel comfortable enough to tease, to play, even if it meant tormenting him with all her sexy skin and lip-biting and a list he thought was going to put his control to the test.
“Yes.”
Her brows rose expectantly.
He grinned. “What’s on your list, Red?”
Pink on her cheeks, even though she was the one who’d pressed the issue, but the mischief was also still there as she glanced up at him with dancing eyes and put it right out there. “It’s a list of all the places I’ve imagined you kissing me.”
There was no tempering his reaction, no holding on to his control.
Her soft mix of shy and not had obliterated any hope he had of pulling back.
He dropped the much-abused bag, knew the pastries inside were probably already reduced to crumbs and not giving one damn. Her thigh that was under his palm tightened, and he groaned, continued massaging the strong muscle that was covered in silk. His other hand went to her cheek, thumb shifting to rub against her bottom lip.
“Did you imagine me kissing you here?” he asked, voice filled with gravel.
She nodded, eyes hot, huskiness invading her words. “Yes.”
He dipped his head and slanted his lips across hers, taking her mouth in a kiss that was pure desire, fanning the flames of his need until he was almost surprised to not find himself reduced to ash.
Only when he felt like his lungs would explode did he release Kate’s mouth.
Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her fingers clenching the fabric of his T-shirt. Her body so close and so fucking tempting.
He ran his knuckles along the column of her throat. “What about here?”
She nodded.
Jaime bent and pressed his lips to the side of her neck, nipping lightly then soothing the slight sting with his tongue.
She gasped, threaded her fingers into his hair and tugged. “Oh!”
“Fuck, I love the way you say that,” he murmured, stealing a quick hard kiss from her mouth just because he could, but also because he couldn’t resist those lips. He stroked a finger lower, dipped it into the front of her tank top. “What about here?”
“No.” She grabbed his hand, brought it to her breast. “I imagined you kissing me here.”
The edges of his vision went hazy.
“Kate—”
Her fingers twitched, which meant that his fingers twitched, and holy hell the feel of her beneath his hand, soft and squeezable and damned near overfilling his hold was. So. Freaking. Glorious.
“Will you?” she murmured, shifting slightly, and he felt the hard bud of her nipple brush against his palm. “Will you kiss me here, Jaime?”
Fuck the pastries.
Fuck the coffee.
Fuck the plan.
He swept her up into his arms and carried her into the house.
Twelve
Kate
That was perhaps the boldest request she had ever made.
But damn, had it paid off.
Because now she was in Jaime’s arms, pressed against the chest she’d admired in so many of his pictures, held close as he stood and pushed through the front door of her house.
A moment of her weight shifting, but before she could do more than grip his shoulders a little tighter, the lock clicked, and she was pulled even closer.
She expected him to ask her where her bedroom was, to dump her down onto the mattress, to cover her body with his own and strip her naked. She expected him to take advantage of the opening she gave him, to take everything she had freely offered to him.
And that would have been fine.
Because it had been freely offered.
Because she wanted that, too.
Had dreamed about it, had fantasized and imagined and hoped and prayed it would come about, and in this moment, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.
But then he spun and pressed her to the door, pinning her against the hard wood.
His lips curved up at the corners. His eyes went hot.
And then he said, “Where else can I kiss you, Red?”
She wrapped her legs around his hips, lurched up so her mouth was a hairsbreadth from his. “Everywhere.”
Lips curving further. Fingers sliding into her hair, knocking the ponytail askew, his hips holding her in place against the wood, and his free hand slipping under the hem of her tank top, his palm scalding where it met her bare skin. “Yeah?”
Kate nodded. “Yeah.”
He dropped to his knees so fast that she shrieked.
But he only stayed there for a moment, long enough to unhook her legs, to help her find her feet, and then he was rising up, and his lips were on hers.
Long and slow and deep, he kissed her as though she were the tastiest dessert on the planet, and he intended to savor every bite. His tongue licked across her lips, slipped inside, and caressed hers, coaxing her into a rhythm that made her thighs clench, her knees tremble.
And all the while, his hands were moving, combing through her unbound hair, stroking up and down her side, over her stomach in delicate circles. A gentle pattern with slightly roughened skin that threatened to melt her into a puddle of goo.
His hand slid up, stopping an inch beneath her bra, and her breasts swelled, her nipples hard little points that ached for his mouth.
“Jaime,” she breathed.
“Red.” He touched her cheek and crouched again, hunkering down in front of her. He was so much taller than her and when he went down to his knees for a second time, his mouth was positioned exactly where she wanted.
He leaned in, sucked the hard bud of her nipple into his mouth.
She still wore her tank top, her bra. Together they made up several layers of fabric. So, him touching her that way shouldn’t have felt good, shouldn’t have sent desire spiraling through her body like his touch was a live wire directly to her pussy. But this was Jaime.
And the fact that he held such a power over her wasn’t scary.
Because she knew deep down in the depths of her soul that he wouldn’t take advantage of that power, that he wouldn’t hold it over her, that she would be safe with him.