Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,52

him. Finished with the tea, he set his cup on the side table. She held her cup out to him and he set it beside his then lowered his arm a fraction to pull her in a little closer, idly running his hand up and down her shoulder and upper arm. His eyes drifted closed and he just let himself enjoy holding her.

“I’ve never done this before,” she quietly said after a few moments.

“Sat on a couch with a man?”

“No, although this is very nice. I mean I’ve never had a male friend before.”

Great. He’d been relinquished to the friend category.

Before he could think of a reply that didn’t sound petty or self-centered or just plain asshole-ish, she took a deep breath.

“What I mean is, I’ve had male friends. And Kirk F is both a friend and well, a little brother. I meant to say I’ve never had a male friend before that I’ve wanted to kiss.”

Thank God.

“So, I’d be your first?” He let the innuendo and question mix.

She turned and stared up at him, the light from the kitchen lighting her blue eyes and showing him the light blush on her cheeks. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips before she spoke. “Why, yes you would.”

He slowly lowered his head towards her, pausing with their lips just an inch apart. “I like being first.”

Then he claimed her lips with his own. Heat not from the whiskey surged through him. He moved his tongue over her lips, stroking their softness. They parted and he slid inside, teasing her, tasting her. She met him with a tentative thrust of her own tongue against his, her hand coming to rest on his chest. Tilting his head, he added pressure, pulling her by her shoulder closer to him.

She moaned. Need for her surged through him at the sound. Need and pride—pride that he’d made her make that sound. And if she asked him to take her into her bedroom and make love to her, he’d pick her up and stalk in there without a word of protest.

Slow your roll, dude.

It has been more than three years since she’d been with a man and by her own admission none of those earlier relationships had ever been a healthy one. If he wanted more from her than just a quick round of mattress Olympics, and he definitely did, he was going to have to walk a tightrope between passion and patience.

Carefully, he eased back both the kiss and his hold on her, just enough to take the edge off his desire, but still enjoy kissing her. After a few more minutes, she pulled away, their lips clinging together a half second longer.

She leaned back to stare into his eyes. “Why did you stop? Is it a cop thing?”

He drew his brows down in confusion. “A cop thing?

“A conflict of interest of sorts. You know, don’t get involved with a witness or a suspect.” Then she looked confused. “But I’m not a witness, nor a suspect. Exactly what am I?”

“A partner,” he said, with a lift of one side of his mouth.

She returned his half-smile. “Partner. I like that. But won’t Jaylon be upset?”

“Nah, he’s the official partner. You’re the unofficial one.” He leaned in to give her another quick kiss. “And the reason I backed off, is I want you to be sure this is what you want. I want this to be different from any relationship you’ve had with any other man. And I’m willing to take it slow just to get there.”

She blinked, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh.”

Fighting the urge to sample those lips once more, he reached up and smoothed a honey-blonde lock of hair away from her face. “So, before I change my mind and decide to screw this up, pardon the pun, I think you should go to bed and leave me to stretch out on your couch again tonight.”

“I think,” she said, pressing her lips to his cheek then standing, “I might like taking things slow.” She headed to her bedroom, then paused in the doorway and stared over her shoulder at him. “Just not too slowly.”

He stared after her even after the door closed, wondering how long he’d be able to move slow. And wondering if he wasn’t an idiot for not following her right inside.

His phone rang at just after six. Adjusting Stanley to the side of the couch—exactly when the pup had crawled up to sleep beside him he didn’t know—he grabbed the phone