Caleb might be as subtle as a bulldozer and he might have frightened her once, but she had grown stronger, more confident. Today, he had proven himself competent of meaningful discussion. Over and over, he had shown her that he respected her fears and feelings. If things between them did not last and they still had to see one another at family gatherings…well, she would cross that bridge then.
“Caleb,” she whispered, lacing her fingers around his neck, pressing herself closer to his body and the erection she couldn’t possibly miss. “Kiss me.”
Chapter 4
He did absolutely nothing for a long heartbeat, just tightened his grip on her and stared down into her face. Something primitive, possessive, snarled across his expression as he lowered his head with a moan and settled his lips over hers. Commandingly gentle. Trembling with tenderness. A brush, an exchange of breaths, once, twice.
Without a doubt, he held back for her, and the painstakingly polite kiss was touching—but completely frustrating.
In the past, all his heat and hunger had worried her. Now it just made her ache for more.
Carlotta tore her mouth from his. “Not like this, Caleb. Kiss me like you did the last time, when I felt certain you meant to consume me. So I can feel that you want all of me.”
A feral smile crawled up his lips. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
He pulled her away from the wall and into the middle of the great room, shrugging out of his jacket and laying it across the carpet.
“On there.” He pointed.
She did not hesitate. In fact, the demanding tone she had once found intimidating now made a new ache dance between her legs.
Never taking her gaze from him, Carlotta eased down onto his leather jacket. It smelled of him, musky, so manly and leathery. Her heart started racing, beating in a mad rhythm. Her palms began to sweat. She had read such descriptions of women being excited by a man before, even heard a few whispers. She would have sworn they were all lies until now.
He attacked the buttons of his shirt as he kicked off his shoes and sent her a piercing stare. “Lottie, if you’d like to keep all those clothes in one piece, start removing them now. I’ve waited over two years for you. My patience has ended. I’ll make it up to you later. Right now, I want you naked.”
His words sent a shiver through her. Undress for him in broad daylight? She had never done that. Goodness, that sounded terribly sheltered. Her first husband had preferred darkness and they had rarely progressed past fumbling around clothing, especially after the children had been born. Gordon had often waited until she was asleep, frequently pushing her nightgown up and spreading her legs before she was even awake, much less excited.
“But…you will see me.”
“Pardon my French, but I f**king hope so.”
If anything, his impatience was climbing. He tore his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the ground. Carlotta’s mouth went dry. Bulging shoulders, one covered in a faded, but still dangerous-looking dragon tattoo. A light dusting of hair just between rigid pectorals. They tapered into a washboard of abdominals that had her gaping in stunned silence.
“You are beautiful,” she breathed.
“You are too, Lottie. I don’t want to hear you try to tell me any differently. And you’re stalling. Off with that blouse. I’d rather have your skirt off too, but if I have to just push it up and rip off your panties to get to you…”
He would. Caleb didn’t even finish speaking the threat because he didn’t have to. Carlotta did not doubt that he would follow through.
With a shaky nod, she reached blindly for the buttons on her blouse. No way was she taking her eyes off him. He was too beautiful. Besides, if he winced or turned away from the sight of her exposing herself…well, then she could cover herself again quickly.
Her fingers shook as she pushed each button through its opening. The cool air hit her collarbones, the swells of her br**sts, her abdomen. Then Caleb was kneeling beside her, tearing the rest of it from her body.
The beige lace bra she had chosen this morning without any thought of sex was both sturdy and modest, and she wondered if he would be put off by something so utilitarian. “I am sorry it is not sexier. My…breasts are not small, and I am not as young as I once was.”
“Not sexy?” He reached behind her, and with one hand, popped open the four hooks holding her bra closed. It slithered down her shoulders, and Caleb dragged it off her body, falling to his knees in front of her to palm one breast. “God, these are beautiful. You know you’re never going to get me off of you again, right?”
It may have been the wrong reaction, but she laughed. It felt good to be wanted. It felt even better to be touched, and when his thumb flicked over her nipple, sensation zipped up her spine. She gasped.
“You have ten seconds to get that damn skirt off, Lottie, or I swear I won’t be responsible for how fast I lift it or how hard I f**k you.”
She peered up at him, then blinked, speechless. No man had ever used that language with her in the bedroom. Always, she had found that particular f-word a bit vulgar, but coming from Caleb’s mouth with his growl of desire, it did crazy things to her heartbeat, heated her blood. She drew in a shaky breath…and realized that the seconds were ticking away.
His strong hands curled around her ankles. He took a moment to appreciate her one indulgence: red heels. The color of blood, about three inches high, they were sensible enough to be comfortable, but eye catching enough to be sexy. Then, one after the other, he peeled them away and tossed them to the other side of the room.
Their gazes met, clung. Her heart, which had beaten like a drum against her chest, stopped for a long second.
“Caleb…” She didn’t even know what she was asking for. Reassurance? A promise that all would be well?