Letting go of my chin, his tone softens. “You are supposed to be in London.” It’s as if he too is making sure it’s truly me.
“And you in Washington.”
He takes a small step backward.
“You’ll think this is crazy,” I begin, “but earlier today, I thought I imagined you.” My gaze is no longer on his eyes, but his lips—his strong, full lips.
The ends quirk upward. “Then maybe we’re both crazy because I imagined you, too. It was at a fashion show. You wouldn’t have happened to have been at the Saks Fifth Avenue fashion show, onstage in a long white negligee, would you?”
Instead of answering that question, I go for the one he first asked. “Stephen is my friend. We work together.”
Although no one is trying to walk past us at the moment, Trevor leans his hard body closer, his warmth surrounding me and resuscitating every nerve that has gone dormant over the last dry spell. With his hands on either side of my face, I lean toward him. If only I were wearing the heels from the show. I’m not. I lift myself up on my toes until our lips meet.
Chapter Ten
Trevor
Sweet and tangy.
Shana Price tastes like sugar with a twist of lemon.
My mind tells me to go slow, reminding me that I don’t have any right to this beautiful woman. My mind is saying to stop, yet her soft moan is all I hear.
My body has its own GPS with the destination close. Listening to my mind is out of the question.
Her petite body shivers as I tease her sweet lips. They willingly part as my tongue delves inside, wrestling with hers.
Not giving up its fight, my thoughts remind me how forward this behavior is and how it isn’t like me. Trevor Willis is not a man who chases a woman down, pins her against the wall, and kisses her until neither of us can breathe or cares.
It’s not me.
But, fuck, it should be.
I like it.
I won’t blame the alcohol. I’ll blame my need to know it’s really Shana and to claim her for my own. I didn’t do it last time, and I’ve regretted it every day since.
When her hands come to my chest, I seize them, lifting them above her head and pinning them to the wall. Shana doesn’t fight; instead, her hips move against mine and our kiss grows more passionate. In the dark, crowded hallway, with my body pressed against hers, I swallow the soft moans coming from her throat.
At that moment, I want to be anywhere but a crowded bar in the middle of Manhattan. I no longer care about Eric’s bachelor party or my friends. I don’t even care about Kimbra back out in the bar. All I want is to whisk Shana away and do what we didn’t do before, what her body and mine are ready and aching to do.
When we finally pull back, I release her hands. Slowly, they fall to her sides, yet her gaze remains locked with mine. I take her in under the dim lighting as her breathing deepens and her breasts brush against my chest. Her blue eyes are wide and full of wonder. Her cheeks are flushed and reddened by my facial hair. There are loose yellow strands framing her face, and her dark pink lips are beginning to swell.
She’s absolutely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Fuck, I’m still not sure if it was her on that stage, but damn, she should be a model.
However, I would rather have her model for an exclusive audience of one—me.
Brushing a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear, I force my body to move away from hers. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” I’m being honest. “It was that after so long...seeing you with him.” I shake my head. “I know I don’t have any right to be jealous. It’s that I never expected to see you here, and now you’re real. I’ve been thinking about you, and damn, Shana Price, you’ve been on my mind since our secret weekend. I’ve tried to move on, but thoughts of you are everywhere.”
Her lips part and curve. I love the way she smiles. It isn’t restricted to her puffy lips, no. It’s her entire face. Her eyes lighten to a soft blue hue, and her cheeks become a deeper shade of pink.
“I was,” she says.
“You were?” I ask, confused. “In my thoughts. Yes.”
She shakes her head. “I was in a fashion show today. It’s a long story, one that may not have a happy ending. I don’t regret it. Getting on that stage was scary and exhilarating. I didn’t know if I could do it.” Her hands come back to my chest, splaying over the front of my shirt. “Stephen said that instead of seeing the audience, I should imagine that the only person who is watching me is the one whom I want to see me wearing the lingerie. I imagined you.”
“Not him?”
She lets out a soft giggle. “Trust me. Not him. He’s one of my best friends, but no. There’s nothing between us.” It’s as if a light bulb goes off over her head. “Oh, no. Best friends. Kimbra is also my best friend. Have you? Her? Duncan? What are we going to do?”
I run my knuckle over her cheek as my grin grows. “I’m not sure there was a complete sentence in any of that, and yet I totally understand.” Before she can respond, I go on, “No, I never told Duncan or Kimbra. Did you?”
Her lips form a straight line as she shakes her head again.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
“Is sneaking out a back door with you an option?”
My knuckle trails down her cheek to her neck, purposely touching the soft skin behind her ear to see if she responds. All at once Shana shivers and I imagine doing more, planting kisses and running my tongue along the sensitive area. I lean in and deliver a soft one to my target.
Shana’s grip of my shirt intensifies.
“Damn, my lady, I love the way you think. Maybe while we’re at it, we could scale a few fences.”
Shana giggles the most perfect melody. “Seriously, I’m in town for two more weeks.”
“Are you suggesting we play it cool out there?”
“As much as I would like to do otherwise, and believe me, I would, but tonight is supposed to be about my best friends.”
I also recall the reason why I’m at this bar. “Yes, me too. I’m at a bachelor party.”
“Seriously?”
“I am.”
“We seem to have a thing for weddings.”
“Do you recall Cynthia?” I ask.
Her smile fades. “Your date at Kimbra’s wedding.”
“My fake date,” I correct her. “Yes. Well, everything I told you was true. This weekend is her fiancé’s bachelor party. If you remember, I said that he and I are friends. His name is Eric.”
Shana nods. “I remember, the one working in Indiana.”
I brush my lips over hers, fighting the urge to linger and taste more of her sweetness. “Damn. How are we supposed to walk out there and act like strangers when we have all this history?”
“Call me...in the morning? I wouldn’t be opposed to repeating some of the history.”
“Oh no, my lady. I want to make another one.”
“Another one?”
“Another history. One where I don’t let you get away.”
I lean closer one more time. By the way Shana wiggles between me and the wall, I know I’m unsuccessful at hiding my reaction to being near her. That reaction is growing painfully harder every second. Yet I don’t want to back away. I need to be close.