Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,27

that pert nose and her jawline. Then back to her mouth, nibbling her lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Goddamn you,” she huffed against his lips, and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth.

She took the offensive now, opening her jaw, pushing against his tongue. She retracted her claws on his biceps and melted into his arms. He relinquished his grip on her face and skimmed his hands down her neck. When he broke the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, panting into her mouth. He turned them around, so her back was against the door. Leaning back a little, he eyed the gap in her robe, where the pale skin of a rounded breast showed.

He lifted his gaze to hers. She was breathing hard, chest rising and falling, so each time that robe slipped a little bit more. He wanted to rip it off. He was hard, cock straining against these pants that were too goddamn tight to begin with.

“Why are you here?” Jenna asked.

He answered as honestly as he could. “I want you.”

And maybe that was it. Standing in front her now, Cal wasn’t stupid to think he and Jenna could limit their interactions to just sex. There were too many feelings. Too much history. But yet, it was simple in that he wanted her, and her lust-filled gaze told him she felt the same. So even though this would inevitably crash and burn, the ride there would be worth it. At least he knew going in that it would end badly. At least he could prepare himself.

Jenna’s mind must have been working the same formula. He waited, prepared to be told to go fuck himself. He’d taken this risk, knowing she could refuse.

But by God, he hoped she didn’t.

She sawed her top teeth over her bottom lip. Then her eyes flickered, and her face set. With a stiff nod, she said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She blinked and then her breath left her in a rush as she said four words that he’d take to his grave: “I want you too.”

He cupped her cheek, resting his thumb at the corner of her mouth so he knew when she opened up to let him in. Their tongues dueled and their lips mashed. He wanted to inhale her into his lungs. He couldn’t get enough.

He broke the kiss and brushed his lips over hers. “Open up your robe, sweetheart.”

She sucked in a breath, a small gasp escaping. Her eyelids were heavy, and he thought she’d refuse. Then her hands came away from where they’d been pressed behind her on the door. She looked up into his eyes and slowly untied the knot at her waist.

She let the ends of the tie dangle so they touched the floor. She leaned her head back so it clunked on the door and raised her hands over her head, clasping her wrist in the other hand.

The sides of her robe moved with her movements, tempting him to open them like a curtain. She smelled like soap and spice and like everything he’d been missing for ten fucking years.

When he reached his hand toward her, it was shaking. With his index finger, he hooked the edge of her robe, slowly pushing it to the side. The fabric caught on her nipple and then gave way to reveal a full breast, thin waist, and flare into a gorgeous full hip, like half of an hourglass, while the other edge of the robe called to him to reveal his whole present.

Her red, swollen lips were parted, and her chest heaved. Her belly quivered, and he let his gaze fall between her legs, to that area of perfectly trimmed hair. One of her legs was bent slightly, resting on the ball of her foot and turned in, so he couldn’t see all he wanted to see. He wanted to fall to his knees right there, spread her legs, and bury his face in her, cover himself with her, lick her up until she could say no other word but his name.

He hooked a finger on the other side of her robe and opened it as well. She was fully bared to him now, all that pale soft skin. She was more gorgeous than she’d been an eighteen. More rounded, more full. Her chin was lifted, eyes on his. He wondered if she knew that despite the fact she was naked and he was fully closed, she held all the power here. She always did.

He ran the back of his fingers