A Daddy for Jacoby - By Christyne Butler Page 0,30

rose to her tiptoes and placed her mouth to his. For a split second it was like kissing a statue, he held himself so still. Then his arms encircled her, his hands powerful as they stroked her back while his lips opened. The heat of his tongue had her readily parting to let him in. He pulled her hard against him, putting her curves flush with his solid, muscular body. Her hands went to the nape of his neck and she held on, sure the desire and passion in his kiss would cause her to splinter into a million pieces.

Oh, this man could kiss.

His hands tangled in her hair, then moved back to her waist where his fingers gathered the bottom edge of her sweater until he touched her skin, hot and needy.

And that’s exactly how Justin made her feel. Hot and needy.

She’d fantasized about this moment for the last three months and the reality was a hundred times better than anything she’d imagined. And more.

He didn’t just kiss with his mouth, but with his whole being.

He moved his hands away and she softly moaned at the loss, but then he trailed them over her jean-covered backside. Seconds later, he lifted her off her feet and carried her a few steps to place her on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.

He nudged her legs apart and stepped between them, his mouth never leaving hers. Arching her back, she strained to be closer, her hands moving to his upper arms, fisting the soft material of his shirt. He cradled the back of her head with one hand as he urged her to lean back into his hold. His other hand traced a path across her stomach before his fingertips slowly inched upward.

The need to breathe had her breaking free from his mouth, but the woodsy, masculine scent of his skin called to her and she buried her face into his neck.

She couldn’t believe this was finally happening. Kissing Justin, being kissed by him, was just as wonderful as she’d dreamed it would be. The strength of his arms made her feel safe, the power in his kiss made her feel wanted.

And she wanted more.

“Justin…”

Seconds later, he scooted her off the counter and moved the two of them deeper into a dark corner of the shadowy kitchen. His mouth came down on hers again in a sizzling kiss until he suddenly broke free. They stood, with Gina pressed between the lower cabinets and his body. His breathing, short and fast and brushing over her ear, matched her own. His hands tightened for a moment before they dropped to right her clothing and he stepped back.

“What’s going—”

He placed his fingers at her mouth. “I thought I heard—” A long moment passed before he dropped his hand. “I guess it was nothing. Look, we can’t… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why?”

Had she really said that aloud? Gina bit hard at her bottom lip, the innocence of her whispered question sounded so naive, so inexperienced even to her ears.

He took another step back but kept his voice low. “The list of reasons could take all night, but for starters, how about the fact our IQs are farther apart than Cheyenne and Miami?”

“This coming from a man who has the complete works of Shakespeare and volumes of poetry by Byron, Shelley and Keats on his bookshelf?”

“How do you know that?”

“Jacoby took me on a tour earlier, remember?”

“Speaking of Jacoby…reason number two. We aren’t exactly alone here.”

Shock washed over her as she realized the little boy might’ve walked in on them at any moment. No wonder Justin dragged her into the kitchen. “Oh, I didn’t even think… I was so caught up in what we were doing…what you were…”

Her voice trailed off as a shaft of moonlight made it possible for Gina to look into Justin’s eyes. For a moment there was something soft and pensive there, then he blinked and she saw nothing but emptiness.

She jerked out of his arms. Grabbing her purse and coat, she started for the front door. “I should go.”

“Gina, this…this isn’t going to happen again.” He started to follow her, then stopped. “It can’t happen again.”

But she wanted it to. She wanted to kiss him again with every fiber of her being and she could’ve sworn he’d wanted it, too.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to keep that in mind if we ever find ourselves alone in the dark again.”

Chapter Seven

One week. Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours.