The Kiss

didn’t plan this.” She turned back toward the door and unlocked it. “Are you coming?”
    She didn’t have to ask him twice; he followed her in and kicked the door closed behind him.
    She pushed aside all fear and turned to face him when she reached the middle of the room. Her gaze locked on his, she started unbuttoning her top.
    He froze in place. “Eliza.” Her name was a gruff whisper, coming from deep inside him.
    She had no doubt he wanted her; no man had ever looked at her with so much naked lust evident in his gaze. She took in the flaring of his nostrils, and her fingers slipped over the smooth surface of the third button. He acted as if he needed her, his body tense with the obvious effort to stay still. Her decision to say to hell with consequences was reaffirmed. Whatever the outcome, for just one night she’d know passion the likes of which she’d never felt before.
    *
    The damned button was frustrating. Watching her fumble with it, it was all he could do not to go to her and rip her shirt open. He was about to snap, when it finally gave way, revealing the pale pink bra that encased her breasts. Nate’s hand rose of its own accord, fingers splayed, aching to release her curves from their confines. He was hard for her.
    The part of him that insisted he’d sustained head trauma and was suffering from delusions had control of his mouth. “Eliza, what are you doing?”
    She looked stunned by his question. Having just finished undoing her top, she clutched its sides together. “What do you mean? I thought you said you wanted me.” Her face betrayed such insecurity, that Nate’s heart ached for the wrongs done to her in the past.
    He sagged down on the nearest bed. “I do. So fucking much. But what do you want?” He didn’t know what he expected as an answer.
    She scrunched her nose and took a moment to reply. “I want something real, I guess.”
    She hadn’t said she wanted him or had feelings for him, but it was good enough. With a nod, he stood and went to her. “This is real,” he said. He framed her face with his hands and laid a gentle kiss on the tip of her adorably upturned nose. He slid his palms down her cheeks, along the lines of her neck and the curve of her shoulders, until he finally drove her sleeveless shirt down her arms.
    Then he took a step back to admire her, as she stood there in her bra and skirt. Despite her diminutive stature, she reminded him of an Amazon—shoulders squared, chin slightly lifted, chest heaving.
    “You are beautiful.” He could tell she needed to hear it, but wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t the absolute truth. This was real.
    A red tint, visible even in the grey afternoon light that filtered in through the curtains, colored her cheeks.
    “Liar.” She smiled.
    He shook his head. “You’re beautiful. Only a blind man wouldn’t see that.”
    She reached behind her back with one hand and undid her bra. Her other arm snaked around her breasts, and her smile widened when his gaze zeroed in on what that arm covered. “Your turn,” she said.
    Losing his T-shirt without tearing his eyes from her was hard, but he managed.
    Her tongue flickered over her lips when his upper body was exposed, and his cock hardened more—to the point of pain.
    Without a word, she let her arms fall to her sides, and the bra glided down their length and fell to the floor.
    He was just as silent when he closed the distance between them and fell to his knees. Not bothering to take her shoes off, he unzipped her skirt, peeled it off her hips, and let it pool on the carpet. He caressed his way up her calves, tickled the back of her knees, and massaged her thighs, before finally cupping her buttocks. He leaned forward to lay a kiss right above her hipbone and reveled at the goose bumps that appeared on her flesh.
    “Get up here, mister.” She let out a barely audible gasp when he grazed the same tender spot with his teeth.
    He rose and stood before her, not touching her. “What do you want, Eliza?”

Chapter Twelve

    Teeth worrying her lip, she tugged at the waistband of his jeans.
    Nate shook his head and grinned, pulling her flush against him. “You’ll have to elaborate on that.”
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted herself up.
    He guessed that could count as an answer.
    Holding her the way he did now, her legs folded around his hips, was something he’d often dreamed of. In fact, he was still not entirely sure he was fully awake as he carried