The Other Side of Us - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,67

separating them.

“Now what do you say?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“That you play dirty.”

“Do I?”

His gaze drifted over her face—her neatly arched eyebrows, her upturned nose, the delicate shape of her jaw. It came to rest on her mouth, where it had wanted to be all along.

She was smiling, and the urge to lean forward and taste her happiness was like a hand in the middle of his back, pushing him forward. He didn’t move, and the smile slowly faded from her lips. “I guess this is going to keep happening, huh?” she said.

He recognized it as a fundamental truth. Immutable. As long as there was air in his lungs, he would be attracted to Mackenzie, and he would want to kiss her and touch her and get naked with her. It was as simple and basic as that.

“I’m having a hard time remembering why I shouldn’t kiss you again,” he said.

“If it helps any, I’m all for it. I’d even go so far as to say that I am an enthusiastic advocate of more kissing. Not to mention any ancillary benefits that might flow on from said activity.”

How was he supposed to resist this woman? Especially when he didn’t even want to try.

His gaze found her mouth again. She tilted her face toward him. He leaned forward, and so did she. She tasted clean and good and sweet and he angled his head, wanting more. The towel fell to the ground between them as they stepped into each other’s arms. He made a satisfied noise as her breasts pressed against his chest and his hand slid onto the curve of her backside.

It wasn’t long before kissing wasn’t enough. He slipped his hands beneath her top, filling his palms with her breasts. Mackenzie freed the stud on his jeans and made short work of his fly. He groaned against her mouth as she found him, her hand gripping his erection firmly before stroking up and down his shaft. Only the knowledge that he didn’t have any condoms stopped him from throwing her to the floor there and then. That, and the awareness of her physical limitations. He settled for sliding a hand past the waistband of her yoga pants. His fingers glided over soft skin and silken hair before sliding into wet heat. She made an inarticulate noise, her hips curling forward to welcome his touch. He found her with his thumb, small and perfect and hard for him, and started teasing her.

She clenched her hand around his erection as she strained toward him. She broke their kiss, pressing her cheek to his, her body taut as a bowstring as she panted with need. He slipped a finger inside her and she groaned, the sound vibrating through her body and into his, an expression of pure need. He could feel how close she was and he backed her against the table and bent his head to her breasts, suckling her through the thin fabric of her T-shirt.

Her hand slipped from his pants to grasp his hip, her other grasping his shoulder. Her whole body trembled as she hovered on the edge of release.

“Come on, baby,” he urged her.

Her breath came out in a warm rush as she climaxed, her fingers biting into his shoulder and hip as she lost herself in pleasure. After long seconds, her grip loosened. He drew back enough to see her face.

Her eyes were tightly closed, her lips rosy from his kisses. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling. Slowly she opened her eyes.

Something hard and irrevocable hit him in the chest as he looked into her eyes. He had the odd sense that for a split second, the world stopped. There was only him and her and the sweetness of her climax and the hazy pleasure in her eyes and the need to be inside her....

Then she closed her eyes again and let her head fall forward against his chest.

“This is crazy,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

It was. They’d only just met. They lived in different parts of the country. They had too much going on in both their lives.

But when he was with her, he wanted to touch her. He wanted to make her shudder with need, and he wanted to make her laugh, and he wanted to be challenged by her, and he wanted to ask questions until he knew all there was to know about her.

Maybe it wasn’t smart. Maybe it wasn’t even rational or