Waking Up to You Overexposed - By Leslie Kelly Page 0,20

down, never took his attention off her face, and she wondered if he even realized he’d moved so close. So incredibly close.

“It has to be you,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“I need you to turn your back on me, to make it clear that you want me to leave.”

He waited. She didn’t turn.

“All right, at least say it,” he ordered. “Make it clear.”

She knew what he was asking, but she couldn’t give him what he wanted—a verbal command to go. Not when she suddenly wanted, with every fiber of her being, for him to stay.

“Tell me to go,” he pleaded.

She wordlessly shook her head.

He muttered a curse. Reaching for her, as if unable to control himself, he caught hold of the silky bathrobe tie at her waist. He tightened it a little, maybe not even realizing he was doing it, as if he was fighting an inner battle between pushing her away and pulling her close.

But she realized it. Her nerve endings were roaring now, her heart thudding in her chest. There was something almost predatory in his expression, and the tightening of the sash around her waist made her feel somehow claimed.

If he pushed her away, she would be devastated.

If he pulled her close, she’d be lost.

“Go upstairs,” he insisted.

“I don’t have to.”

“God, you’re stubborn.” He leaned in closer, until his pant legs brushed her bare calves. The fabric was deliciously rough and warm from his body and she couldn’t help stepping closer, sucking up that warmth. The early morning air was still chilly but heat wafted from him, like he’d absorbed the first sunbeams of the new day and could now reflect them back.

He inhaled deeply, as if he needed her scent in his lungs. She knew she smelled fresh, soapy and clean, not perfumed or lotioned, but the man looked intoxicated all the same.

“This is not why I came in here.” His face was so close to hers, she could feel the gentle fall of his exhalations on her skin. A slight shift and there was the most delicate rasp of his stubble upon her cheek.

“You came to bring my suitcase,” she murmured, not really thinking about the words they exchanged, able to focus only on his closeness. His power. The scent of his body, the roughness of his strong jaw. She wanted that roughness scraping all over her, knowing his soft, delicious mouth could kiss away any soreness.

“Right. And now I have.” He moved his body even closer. Their thighs came together.

“So you can go.” She arched against him, sighing as her hard, aching nipples met that masculine chest.

“You want me to?” One of his hands dropped to her hip and he squeezed lightly, again making her feel claimed.

“The choice is yours.” She tilted her head to the side, offering him the bare expanse of her neck.

“I’ll go then.” He moved his face to her throat, not kissing, not tasting, just breathing in and out, a millimeter from her skin, increasing the tension, heightening her senses.

So close. So incredibly close.

“If you say so.” She closed her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet, willing him not to go, and, for heaven’s sake, to just stop talking about it and kiss her.

“I’m going.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“Damn it,” he muttered as if he’d finally realized she wasn’t going to order him to leave, and had finally snapped himself out of the sensual spell. But he still couldn’t back away completely, and brushed his cheek against her hair. “Do you always have to get your way?”

“Ask me in an hour.”

And she gave up, stopped playing coy and took what she’d been wanting since the night they’d met. Not giving him a chance to fight it anymore, she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him to her. His eyes flared and he tensed. Then, with a deep groan, he gave in to her and lowered his mouth to hers.

Their lips parted, the kiss hot, sensuous and wet. There was nothing tentative about it, no hesitation, no regret. He simply devoured her and she let him, tilting her head, loving the feel of his tongue in her mouth. Their bodies were pressed together, his hands at her waist, hers tangled in his thick hair, and the kiss went on and on, deep and hungry. She had sensed this man’s mouth had been made for kissing, and now she knew. He dined on her, sipped from her, swallowed her exhalations as if he needed her breaths to expand his lungs and fuel his