pulled across his shoulders and jeans that weren’t too tight but looked soft and well worn. Comfortable.
Couldn’t the man wear a sack for her sake? And why was he here today? She was normally alone when she came into the office on the weekends.
She eyed him warily as he stood in the doorway, her mind flashing back to the kiss they’d shared last week. But she’d had several days to get over the impact of his kiss, she told herself. She could handle him today. She’d have to!
She sighed and pulled her eyes away from the man who had bothered her sleep for so many nights she was actually feeling sleep deprived. There were some moments lately that the only reason she was standing was because of coffee. “I’m trying to tweak some ideas I had last night.”
Drake was no longer standing in her doorway but the only way she knew that was because he had walked over to stand beside her, his shoulders bumping her own and his large body causing a shadow to fall over her work. “From the designs you’ve submitted so far, I know you’ll do an excellent job. What are you so worried about?” he asked, his finger running over the designs as he traced her changes.
She almost gasped at the image of his finger on her paper. Instantly, the thought of that same finger running down her arm or her leg, or even her stomach, caught her imagination and she couldn’t think for a long moment. Couldn’t even breathe.
When she didn’t respond, he looked back at her, trying to find out what was wrong. But the look in her eyes, the softened mouth, lips that were slightly parted and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts under the soft, yellow sweater caused him to ignore the designs and turn to face her fully.
“Sierra, I’m going to kiss you,” he said by way of a warning.
Sierra heard the words and knew from the last time he’d kissed her that she should pull away. She should run or at least tell him that she didn’t want him to do anything to her, much less kiss her. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t stop him as his hands moved to her waist. She looked up at him, her eyes watching his progress as he slowly, so painfully slowly, lowered his head. Was he waiting for her to stop him? To push him away? She could no more stop him than he could stop the earth from spinning or the sun rising over the horizon each morning. It was as if this moment, this caress, was meant to happen and she’d been waiting for it ever since their last kiss. So much had happened, but it all came down to this kiss at this particular time.
She held her breath as she waited for his lips. When she felt them, their softness, the electrifying touch, she gasped, causing her to lean back slightly. His hands gripped her waist, holding her still, even pulling her closer. Her own hands were fisted into tight, tension filled balls, pressing against his biceps as if she were afraid to touch him. But as he deepened the kiss, her hands opened, her palms pressed against his arms, sliding higher, testing along the way.
And then her knees almost gave out on her when he stopped the gentleness. Her lack of resistance must have triggered something inside of him because he was no longer soft but demanding, no longer patient but commanding. His tongue invaded, took possession of her mouth and she melted against him, her body going up in flames of need while he continued to devour her.
She had no idea how it happened, but suddenly she was sitting on her work table, her legs around his waist and her hands sliding inside of his flannel shirt while his hands were moving up underneath her sweater impatiently.
When she felt his hands on her breasts she almost cried out, and would have if his mouth wasn’t covering hers. But the sound she did make caused his head to come up and he looked down into her passion glazed eyes. His fingers weren’t still though. They continued to cause her entire body to shiver, to shake with need and an almost painful desire that she didn’t know how to control.
“We need to get out of here,” he said, his voice deeper than normal and husky with his own desire. “Come back with me. We can finish this