Page 124 of Wordless


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My tone grew teasing. "Are they?"

"Ithinkthey are. I mean, theyfeellike they are."

And now she was blushing again. Even in the dim light, the flush of her cheeks was deep and alluring, and I leaned slowly toward her. In a low voice, I offered, "If you want, I'll check."

She sucked in a breath. "Oh. Yeah. You definitely should. For research purposes. I know that writing and research – it goes hand in hand, right?"

I knew wheremyhands wanted to be. And now I smiled. Even when she was so adorably flustered, she had a certain way about her. She was warm and funny, and so sexy, she took my breath away.

I reached out with the back of my index finger and stroked her nipple through her shirt. Her back arched, and she made a little sound.

At the sound and sight of her, I almost groaned out loud.

She wanted more.And so did I.

But I was on a mission.

I was going to make her crave it – cravemeand everything I wanted to do to her – until her mind shut off and her body took over.

With the back of my finger, I stroked her again, barely skimming the hardened nob. When she made that same sound, I felt like I'd bust out of my pants.

Breathlessly, she asked, "Isn't it kind of hard to tell through the shirt?"

I smiled. "Maybe."

"Oh, it is," she breathed. "I'm sure of it."

If that wasn't a hint, I didn't know what was.

But first, there was something I'd been wanting to do for far too long. Her wine was nearly gone now. I reached for her glass and pulled it gently from her fingers.

I set it on the coffee table next to mine and turned once again to face her. I pulled her close and kissed her long and hard, enjoying the feel of her tongue and the taste of her lips.

When she gave a muffled moan against me, I wanted to take her right then and there.

Not yet, I reminded myself.

Instead, I deepened the kiss and reached under the hem of her shirt, savoring the feel of her smooth stomach as I slid my hand deliberately upward, heading toward her breasts.

Her bra – thin and lacy – was the kind that fastened in front. It was a good thing, too, because my fingers were already there. With one practiced motion, I popped the clip and felt the lacy fabric fall aside.

Finally.

Her shirt was still on, but the bra was no longer between us. Slowly, deliberately, I cupped her breast upward, loving the weight of it in my hand and the soft sounds she made against my lips.

When my fingers found her nipple, she arched her back as if begging for more. She was so responsive, so perfect, and so genuine, that in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder where she'd been my whole life.

I didn't know.But she was here now, and that's all that mattered.

I pulled back and said, "Do you know how many times I've thought of this?"

In a near-whisper, she replied, "It can't be more thanIhave."

"Wanna bet?"

She shook her head. "No way."

"Why not?" I teased.