Closing the distance between them, he cupped her face in his big hands and stared down at her with a tender smile that sent warmth coursing through her. “I can’t believe you were going to run away with me,” he said softly, his face full of awe and love and so much more.
She swallowed hard. “I still would if you asked me to.”
Those eyes of his flashed bright amber a second before he dipped his head.
Her breath caught as he pressed his lips to hers in a tentative first kiss that was both sweet and sensual, as if he were waiting to see if she would pull away. But Emma had been fantasizing about this—about kissing him and touching him—ever since they’d started having lunch together in the cafeteria almost a year ago.
Cliff hummed his approval when she kissed him back and explored his soft lips with growing fervency. Dropping his hands to her hips, he drew her closer and increased the pressure.
Emma’s heart began to pound as desire heated her blood. Parting her lips, she invited him inside, then moaned at the first touch of his tongue. Every brush and stroke increased the fire building within her. Sliding her arms around him, she flattened her hands on the muscles of his broad back, his smooth skin warm beneath her fingers, the intimate feel of bare flesh against bare flesh merely heightening her need.
A deep growl of approval rumbled up from his chest as he urged her tighter against him, breasts to chest. Abs to muscled abs. Hips to hips, letting her feel how hard he was beneath the towel.
Excitement skittered through her. He felt so good. And damn, he could kiss. She didn’t think she’d ever been so turned on by the press of lips or the stroke of a tongue. But Cliff set her on fire.
She’d wanted him for so long.
The muscles of his back flexed beneath her fingers as she caressed them.
And now, it would seem, she could have him.
Chapter Eleven
Cliff’s heart hammered in his chest.
She was going to run away with me. Emma was going to leave everything behind to run away and be with me.
The knowledge staggered him. Humbled him. Moved him deeply. As did her touch.
Drawing back a fraction of an inch, he stared down at her, mesmerized by her beauty, her bravery, and the love that shone in her eyes beneath the reflection of the amber glow in his own.
Emma loved him. She hadn’t said it. But he knew it as surely as he knew he loved her.
Groaning, he claimed her lips again, more fervent and aggressive. She tasted so good. Smelled so good. Felt so good. And he’d wanted her for so long. He could barely believe she was finally in his arms. He had thought this moment would never come. That they could never be together like this.
And her touch…
He’d been so starved for affection, for physical contact, that just the feel of her hands on the bare skin of his back could practically make him come.
Almost as soon as the thought flitted through his mind, she slid her hands around and rested them on his bare chest.
Please don’t push me away, he silently pleaded with sudden panic. Please don’t push me away. Not yet.
But she didn’t. Instead, she curled her fingers in the hair there and gave it a tug that sped his pulse. Then she slid her arms up around his neck and, rising onto her toes, realigned their hips so the erection constrained by his towel could press against her center.
She moaned and fisted his dreadlocks when he rocked against her.
He moaned, too. Nothing could compare to this. To the feel of her in his arms.
Her tongue stroked his as he ravaged her lovely mouth.
Cliff slid a hand up to cup her breast. Small and firm, it fit perfectly in his palm. No bra hid the stiff peak, only the thin material of her tank top. She moaned again when he toyed with the sensitive tip, stroked it, pinched it. Her hips arched into his.
He slid his other hand down over the firm ass he’d fantasized about and pressed her harder against his erection. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in her neck and squeezed her tight, though he was careful not to let his enhanced strength come into play and squeeze her too tightly.