his chin as if he was standing in front of a work of art, assessing it. “That looks good. Take your glasses off, too.”
My hair was one thing, but I couldn’t see without my glasses. “Why?”
A smile touched the corner of his mouth, and the look in his eyes became distinctly mischievous. “Because then I can kiss you properly,” he said.
Chapter 14
Penny
Did I want him to kiss me?
For once in my life, I didn’t have to think about it.
I put down my wine glass. Then I took off my glasses and set them on the counter. The answer was yes.
He smiled at that, and then he moved closer. He cupped my jaw in his hands. “Perfect,” he said, and then he kissed me.
Had I pictured this? Yes, I had. Even in the darkness of my bedroom in my old apartment in San Diego, I’d let my mind wander to what it would be like to kiss Wes Kane. He was a man who would know how to kiss a woman properly—no fumbling, no awkward angles or clicking teeth. Even when I hadn’t thought I liked him, I’d imagined that Wes would kiss like he was born to it, like he’d been kissing women all his life.
I was right.
It was flawless. His hands cupped my face and his body leaned against mine and we fit together. I put my hands around his waist and moved them up his back, feeling the lines of it beneath the fabric of his Henley. He took this as encouragement and pressed me back against the counter, his hips against mine and his mouth taking me deeper. I’d never thought of myself as a particularly skilled kisser—I didn’t have a ton of practice—but with Wes I was a natural. I kissed him back, exploring him, taking what I wanted for once. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his tongue swept past my lower lip and into my mouth.
That was also something I didn’t have much experience with. But it felt so good, tasted so good, that I leaned into that, too. My entire body grew warm, my pulse pounding. I was excited, breathlessly so, and at the same time I felt comfortable, because this was Wes. Wes was kissing me, and whatever happened next was going to be good.
He broke the kiss and dropped his mouth to my neck, unzipping my hoodie and running his hands under my tank top. I gripped his shoulders and held on, the touch of his hands on my bare skin making my hips buck against his of their own accord. I could feel the rough fly of his jeans through the fabric of my sweatpants. We had too many clothes on—far too many.
“This is probably a bad idea,” I gasped as Wes’s hands moved higher on my skin and I squirmed my hips against his, practically climbing him.
“Probably,” he agreed, and then he groaned against my skin because his hands had found my bare breasts. “Penny, you aren’t wearing a bra.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” I said, hooking my leg around the back of one of his.
“I noticed.” His hands explored me, taking in the shape and weight of my breasts, his skin so warm against mine. His fingers brushed over my hard nipples, circling, and bolts of sensation moved through my body, down into my lower belly and between my legs. I squirmed against him harder, pulling his body tighter to mine as I slowly lost my mind. He definitely had too many clothes on. I wanted his skin.
I pulled him down to me and kissed him again as his hands continued their exploration of my breasts. He was more insistent now, too, his tongue sweeping over mine with dominating confidence that drove me wild. I pushed the hem of his shirt up, dragging my hands over the taut skin of his stomach and his chest. Wes pulled back, hissing in a breath as he pulled the shirt off over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Now I had him shirtless again, like I’d had the other night, except this time I got to touch him. And I did, running my hands over his stomach and his pecs, his shoulders and his biceps, the lean line of his waist down to where his hips disappeared into his jeans. Wes dropped his hands into my pants and gripped my ass, pulling me to him, his fingers hot and powerful through the thin fabric of my panties. I felt