Was he high? Did I want to go to sleep? What kind of question was that?
I tried to be cool.
“Not really.”
He smiled The Smile.
My stomach melted.
“Good,” he said then he kissed me.
It was a f**king great kiss, long, slow, deep and hot. When it was over, his mouth slid across my cheek, down my neck and across my collarbone. His hand at my waist went up my back and he tugged at my hair, making me expose my neck and then his tongue dipped into the indentation at the base of my throat.
He let go of my hair, his hand cupped the back of my head and he kissed me again. A repeat of the first but better, lots of tongue. One of his hands was holding my head, the other one went to slide across my breast over the fabric of my dress.
This was all well and good, in fact it was beautiful. The problem was, Lee was acting like we had all the time in the world. He was acting like, at any moment, the door buzzer wasn’t going to buzz out some secret code tearing him away, leaving me high and dry, or, more to the point, panting and wet.
I pushed up, changed position and straddled his hips. I yanked his t-shirt free of his jeans and pulled it over his head, throwing it wherever. I slid my hands down his chest, scratching his abs just a touch with my nails, watching his muscles tighten reflexively, and I went straight for the button fly on his jeans.
I got the top button undone when his hands grabbed my wrists and stopped them.
My eyes went to his and I saw the crinkles deepened at the corners.
“In a hurry?” he asked.
“Uh…” I said in a “duh” tone, “yeah.”
“There’s no need to rush.” He pulled my hands away, let them go and slid his up my sides.
“You were in a rush this morning,” I told him as he watched his hands slide up, then stop at the sides of my br**sts. His right hand curled and he slid his knuckles along the side right to the nipple. It hardened and he watched that too.
I bit my lip at the shock that went from nipple to nether region then said, impatiently, “Lee.”
His eyes moved from my br**sts to my face.
“This morning was different.”
“Different, how?”
“I’m a guy,” he said as if that explained it and it kind of did. I’d never known a man who didn’t wake up with one thing on his mind, usually ready for that thing before his eyes opened.
“Well, how it was for you this morning is how it is for me now,” I told him, my hands going back to his fly.
His hands went again to my wrists and he pulled them behind my back.
“I thought you wanted to take this slow,” he said.
I could swear I heard laughter in his voice.
Bastard.
“How about this? You do it your way, I’ll do it mine,” I suggested.
His eyes locked on mine.
“This should be interesting.”
“Damn straight,” I muttered.