“Okay, okay.” He forked up another morsel and held it under her nose. “This reminds me of your perfume—lilacs and something lemony.”
“Lemon verbena.” Not only had he noticed the details of the scent she mixed from essential oils, but he’d also created an edible tribute. Had any past lover paid such careful attention?
Tears prickled her eyes—and no smoke to blame them on.Oh, what the hell. Just this once, she wouldn’t hide her emotional reaction, even if it was sappy.
“Jesse.” She twined her fingers through his. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more flattered. Thank you.”
Firelight flickered in his dark irises. Breathless, she silently prayed for the kiss she craved. He licked his lips, a slow, sensual gesture. His gaze slid away. “Tea?”
Well, shit. Wrong again.
“Sure.” She forced a cheerful tone.
He unscrewed the thermos’s lid and poured a stream of amber liquid into her mug. “My grandmother’s sweet dreams tea. Gran was kind of a hippie. Believed in the old home remedies.”
“Like me?”
Jesse huffed a laugh as he filled his own cup. “Forgive me if I have a hard time comparing you to my grandma.”
She sipped, hiding her disappointed pout behind her oversize mug. “Lemme guess—she was steady, like you. Not like me, bouncing from place to place.”
With a gentle touch, Jesse removed the mug from her fingers and set it on the table’s rim. He traced the curve of her cheek with his callused fingertip, igniting shivers of pleasure.
“Gran was a wonderful woman, wise and kind. That part is like you. But she was, well, my grandma. Soft, comfortable.” Through the blanket, he rubbed her thigh in slow, measured strokes. “And you—” A low hum rumbled in his chest as his gaze danced over her face, her body. “You’re more like the fire—leaping and dancing, bright sparks that burn themselves into my memory and then disappear. When I close my eyes, I can still see them. Just like I see you long after you leave—in the greenhouse, in my kitchen, in my dreams.” As he spoke, he moved closer until his lips hovered mere inches from hers.
Spellbound, she waited as Jesse feathered his fingers through her hair, over her jaw, his dark eyes sparkling.
Burning desire bulldozed the last of her patience. With a moan, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him in to claim what she needed.
But the stubborn bull reared back with a teasing smile. “Easy. I don’t want to rush this.” He nudged her woolen scarf aside and kissed the sensitive skin below her ear. Sparks danced from the tender press of his lips to the tips of her toes.
“Jesse, we don’t have much time together.” His curly hair was so soft beneath her fingers.
He chuckled. “I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise.”
With a groan, she let her head loll back and submitted to his unhurried exploration. This was a new sensation for a woman used to grabbing what she wanted. Nerves as taut as violin strings, breath shallow, she relished each thrill until Jesse mercifully pressed his warm, soft lips to hers.
The moan rumbling through his broad chest melted her bones. He pulled back far enough to pierce her with his gaze. “You’re going to break my heart, aren’t you?”
“Not necessarily.” She stroked his beard, scratchy-soft beneath her palms. More likely, she’d fall hard for this surprising, stunning man who’d find out soon enough how hard she was to love. But for now, she’d accept the pleasure he offered.
She toyed with the silky curls at his nape as he pressed kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and throat before returning to her hungry mouth. His tongue teased her lips apart and entered, all velvet seduction, a slow tango that built higher and higher. She arched toward him, craving more contact. With a low laugh, he tugged the blankets up to cover them both, unfastened her jacket, and slid his hands over her sides, his thumbs teasing the outer curve of her breasts.
It was like being a desperately horny teen again, making out in the bleachers at a football game, but hotter because Jesse knew how to prolong each caress, bringing her to dizzying heights of arousal.
“Please,” she moaned into his hair as he traced her collar bones with his tongue.
“Please what, beauty?”
“Touch me.” She arched her breasts toward him, but his hands slid around her back, massaging her gently.
“I am touching you.”
Such a damn tease. He was going to make her ask for what she wanted. She grasped one elusive wrist and brought his hand to her breast. “No, here.”
With a devilish laugh, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Like this?” He kept his touch light, the barest brush over her sweater. Her nerves screamed.
“More. I need to feel your hands on my skin.”
