“Follow me,” she said, glad she’d gambled and pulled out her prettiest underwear after soaking in a bath of green tea and chamomile. She smelled good, and the high-cut lacy panties made her feel desirable.
Dez’s hand stayed on the small of her back as they climbed the stairs, as if he didn’t want to break their connection. Somehow it was both comforting and a turn-on.
She didn’t bother flicking the light switch as she entered her bedroom. Instead she turned and stepped into his arms, twining her own around his neck and pulling him close enough to count his heartbeats...close enough to savor the erection prodding her belly. A sweet ache vibrated inside her as her blood heated, an automatic, guttural response to something she’d been denied far too long.
Dez lowered his head and grazed her throat with his lips. Goose bumps sprouted on her arms, traveling up her neck, and she dropped her head back so the man had room to work.
“You’re so sexy,” he breathed, his mouth skimming her ear before nipping her earlobe. “Feel so damn good.”
His words were all she needed to take the next step. She broke free, stepped back and grabbed the hem of her sweater. Pulling it over her head, she shook her hair before kicking off her serviceable beige pumps and unbuttoning her pants, shimmying so they pooled at her feet. She kicked them out of the way and stood before him in her lacy undies, bra and the gold chain Blakely had given her for Christmas. Eleanor was totally ready for all that was about to transpire.
His gaze moved hungrily over her in the dim moonlight streaming through the drapes. She felt beautiful.
He did that to her—made her feel beautiful and strong—and she knew beyond doubt that making love with Dez was the absolute right thing. No matter what happened down the line, she would always have this moment.
This sweet, exquisite moment...right before she licked his stomach and kicked things up to raunchy.
* * *
DEZ STOOD ON SOFT CARPET in scant light studying the beauty that was Eleanor. He’d seen her in the harsh light of her office, and knew every viewable inch of her was lovely, but the moonbeams falling softly on her hollows and dips made her mystical. Her light hair, streaked with flame, darkened with the absence of the sun, but the luminosity of her skin glowed, beckoning his touch. She was fluid, warm poetry, and he wanted to draw near and immerse himself.
Quickly, he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it atop Eleanor’s pants. He tugged off his T-shirt, unhitched his belt and, after disengaging them from a very erect barrier, allowed his pants to fall to his feet. Shoes, socks and another kick until he stood in his boxers, noticeably tented but not caring it was a ridiculous look on a man, because nothing could mar the moment between them.
He loved the way Eleanor watched him, her eyes hungry, her breathing elevated. It was a sacred moment—two lovers baring themselves, preparing for something beautiful, magical and satisfying. No doubt it would be good. He knew this the way he knew the piano.
Dez reached for her and the words didn’t matter. No more poetry or magic. Just sheer raging lust for the woman he’d wanted ever since she’d enraptured him on the sidewalk outside Blue Rondo.
“Ah,” she sighed as their bodies met, fitting perfectly, bared flesh against bared flesh. “So good, so very good.”
Her words inspired, and he bent, tasting her lips. She tasted like coming home, a vague wonderful rightness, mixing past and present with the hint of a future.
Eleanor opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to meet his. He slid his hand to cup her head, taking the kiss to a new level. He teased her, withdrawing to nibble at her lips, allowing his hands to dip down to the curve of her waist, stroking lightly along her flesh before deepening the kiss again, establishing a rhythm, a precursor of what would follow.
Eleanor groaned, breaking the kiss, moving her hands to his stomach, stroking, exploring, scorching a path as she learned his body. She seemed to particularly like his stomach, which made him glad for all those daily sit-ups.
“Yes,” he groaned as her fingers threaded the scant hair trailing down his belly. His erection leaped in response against the heat of her stomach. “Bed. Now.”
Eleanor walked backward, unwilling to break the contact between them, her silken arms vises around him, her warm, wet lips nipping at his