waiting for the other person to take the next step.
“You want to come up for a glass of wine?” she whispered, flashing a shy smile.
“No,” he whispered back, their lips so close that when he spoke they brushed.
“No?”
“I want to come up, but not for wine.”
That got a startled laugh out of her. Then she smiled and Marc felt his whole world go right.
“Okay,” she began again, only this time wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing those perfect tens against his chest. He looked down to find all that soft flesh, barely contained by her dress. Holy hell, what a view.
“Marc?”
His eyes jerked to hers, which were lit with humor. “I asked if you’d like to have a sleepover?”
“Does this sleepover involve you and me, sweaty and naked?”
“It does.”
“Then, yes. Thank you.” He kissed her again, adding a little tongue and some hand action for emphasis. “For inviting me up.”
“You’re welcome.” She kissed him back. Her hands were doing some action of their own.
Never breaking contact, Marc reached out and opened the front door. Walking backward, they stumbled up the porch step and into the apartment. He kicked the door with his foot, and before it even slammed shut, Lexi was up against the wall, his hands were up her dress, and there was no way in hell that either of them would make it upstairs clothed. Things were already getting crowded in his jeans. And he didn’t want to damage that dress, so it had to go.
Lexi’s hands were working the buttons of his shirt. She had it undone and was sliding it down his arms in ten seconds flat, forcing him to ease the grip he had on her ass so that she could toss it to the floor.
Then she was going for his undershirt, but he had just got his hands back where he wanted them and he didn’t want to let go again. So he took her mouth with his, hoping to distract her so he could get her out of that damn dress.
“Naked. I want you naked,” she moaned against his mouth while tugging at his shirt, which was shoved up to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric with frustration. He knew how she felt. Her damn zipper was caught in the fabric—again.
He gave it one more yank, and when it didn’t budge, except to get further stuck, he growled, “Fuck it,” and dropped his hands to her ass and lifted. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She did and he nearly lost it right there. There was something about her. Something about the smell of her skin, the way he felt when she was pressed against him, the way their connection continued to grow until it blew his fucking mind.
She slid one arm around his neck and dropped the other down his chest, abs, and stomach until it finally settled over the ridge in his jeans, and damn it if he didn’t buck into her hand.
When Lexi’s fingers headed under his waistband, Marc headed up the stairs.
She lifted her head, which had been buried in the crook of his shoulder while her mouth did amazing things to his neck. “Where are we going?”
“Bed,” he said, because he wanted this. He wanted her. Wanted to be inside of her making her scream out his name. And he wanted all of that now. But he also wanted their first time to be special and not up against some wall. Plus, it was hard to taste and touch his fill when his hands were too busy holding her up.
He made it up the stairs in record time, but before he could round the hall she had managed to unbutton his pants and was teasing those soft fingers of hers beneath the elastic band of his boxer-briefs and lower. Her gentle exploring scrambled his brain, and even though he had wanted to make love to her in the bed, that would mean she’d have to stop what she was doing down south and there was no way that was going to happen.
“The couch,” she mumbled, gripping him hard.
Couch. Right. It was soft, had pillows, and would allow his hands to get to the touching part of the evening. Which was exactly what he did the second he sat down, Lexi still wrapped around his middle.
Then they were kissing again, and he forgot about everything except for her amazing lips working his. The kiss was hot and long and he lost himself in it. So when she