“I thought the red lips would keep me from kissing you. But I guess I found a way.”
His voice rolls over me, and it’s another way in which I’m lost in his presence. Jesus, this man puts his hands on me and I’m gone. Thoughts of anything else leave my mind. It’s scary and exciting all jumbled together.
“Lucky for you it’s a stain and won’t come off.” I blush a little, thinking how terrible I am at being sexy.
He gives me a wicked smile while taking my hand in his. “Challenge accepted.”
He leads me from the lobby to a waiting limo. I’m a little surprised at how formal this is, but maybe this is the kind of car he rolls around in. Oz opens the back door and helps me in. I’m flummoxed by the sight that greets me.
When the door opens on the other side and Oz slips in, I look at him in shock.
“I thought this would be…” He hesitates for a second, as if trying to think of what to say. “More intimate.”
“So you had breakfast brought to the back of a freaking limo?” I look around at all the trays of food as the car pulls away from the curb. “This is crazy. I was thinking some diner close to work.”
“We can do that if you’d prefer it.”
I look over and see a little look of disappointment on his face, so I reach out, taking his hand. I don’t want him to think I’m unhappy or ungrateful for the over-the-top gesture. I love it. It’s sweet he took so much effort to do this. At every turn, this man keeps surprising me, showing me he isn’t who I pegged him for that first day. A little guilt hits me.
“No!” I say too loudly, and then try to recover. “No. This is perfect. Thank you. This is more than I expected. It’s really sweet.”
He squeezes my hand back, and the dimples return. Those adorable dimples are going to break me. Even more so when I say something that makes them appear.
“What would you like?” He indicates the trays, and I’m overwhelmed.
“I think I have too many butterflies to eat yet. Coffee?”
He smiles at my words and reaches for a cup beside him. “Lots of cream, lots of sugar and a dash of cinnamon.”
“How did you know that?” I ask, gripping the cup. I take a sip. It’s perfect. Exactly how I like it.
“I have my ways,” is all he says in response. It warms me that he’s taken so much effort to find out little things about me, adding to the bubble around us. It’s almost like a thrill and I want to hold on to a little bit of that mystery.
He looks down at my coffee cup, and I raise an eyebrow in question.
“Looking to see if you left a mark.” He takes the cup from my hand and places it back in the holder next to him. He looks at me with such intensity, I’m about to ask him what’s wrong. But suddenly, his hands come up to my face and his mouth is on mine.
His lips are so soft, but in them is a need beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. My mouth opens, taking a breath, and his warm tongue slips inside. He moans at my taste, and I put my hands on his shoulders, clinging to him. Not wanting the kiss to end, or the sensations that it’s causing. I didn’t know a simple kiss could do this. Make every part of you come alive. All thoughts of the world dropping away and leaving only this one moment. But that’s because this kiss isn’t simple at all. This kiss is everything.
I lick him back, wanting to taste him, too, and needing to be as close to him as possible. I run my hands up the back of his neck and into his hair. My body is out of my control as I grip the short length and try to hold on to him.
His huge hands slide down my sides to my waist. He pulls me to him in a possessive hold, and suddenly I find myself sitting on his lap, his erection digging into my hip. It should probably scare me but it doesn’t. It makes me feel desired and feminine. The kiss deepens, and the taste of cinnamon goes from my tongue to his. His cologne rubs onto my body as my full breasts push against his suit. For a split second I want to reach down and rip his shirt open so I can touch the skin of his chest, but as he bites my lower lip, all I can think about is the ache between my legs unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I had no idea it could be like this.