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Desperately. But she still didn’t know if she could live with the result. Still, she couldn’t stop herself smiling at him. “Who’s the referee?”
“You want to stop, we stop. That rule’s nonnegotiable.”
She considered him. Considered the rush of heat in her blood, the heated tingle that was stealing across her skin in all the right places. Her body liked his proposal. More than liked it. “That sounds fairly straightforward.”
“Straight’s simplest for now, don’t you think? We can complicate things later if you want. Depends what you like.” He lifted an eyebrow.
“I like…” That was a concept too difficult to answer right now. Not when she was still getting her head around the fact she was standing in Alex’s office negotiating the rules of making out with him. “Right now, simple sounds good. As a test.”
His smile blazed to life. “That’s my girl.” He walked over to the door, flipped the lock shut, then was back at her side before she had time to change her mind. “Now … where were we?”
“You were talking about bases?”
“Bases, right. Like first base?” He reached out, settled his hands on her waist. She lifted hers to his shoulders. It felt strange for a moment, like she was a teenager trying to figure out how to kiss a guy for the very first time. Which was dumb because she’d already kissed Alex.
She wanted to kiss him again. “First,” she said softly, and pulled his head down to hers.
Neither of them bothered with starting slow. No, this kiss was fierce and strong and seemingly designed to set her every nerve on fire.
It went on, teasing and testing and tormenting, until she was drunk with him.
He bent her back until she was resting on the desk, legs wrapped around his waist, arching against him as he kissed her with the mouth of a pro.
This was a long way from making out under the bleachers with a clumsy teenager, which was probably the last time she’d been worried about first base. Such a long way it felt like an entirely different universe.
Still, Alex seemed to be in no hurry to move on. His hands held his weight above hers and he made no effort to try and move things along. But she was growing impatient, hungry. Aching and restless. She wanted more. Wanted his hands on her. She pushed him away gently. He backed off immediately and Maggie sat up.
Alex’s eyes were dark as he looked at her. “Are you saying stop?”
She shook her head, moved her hands to the buttons of her shirt, and undid them as fast as possible with fingers that seemed to have forgotten how exactly that task was accomplished.
Her shirt fell open, leaving her in her bra. She could feel her nipples straining against the flimsy lace, knew that he could see them. Wanted him to.
“Second,” she reminded him when he just looked at her, eyes almost black now.
“Bossy,” he said softly, but he slid one hand up her stomach, around the curve of her ribs and up along her side. His fingers grazed the side of her breast but didn’t touch her where she wanted to be touched. No. Instead, he continued to drift his fingers across her skin, tracing the lines of collarbone and shoulder and bicep. Little trails of pleasure followed his touch. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and laid her head back. She was the one who’d asked for slow. Apparently the man was following orders. Well, she’d let him be in control for now.
Mostly because it felt so damned good.
“Nice lace,” he said softly when his hand finally reached the point where the edge of the bra cupped her skin. “Expensive?”
“Sort of?”
“Guess I’d better be careful then.” He bent and breathed on the lace, right over her nipple.
The warmth hit her skin like the fabric wasn’t even there and she tightened painfully. God. He was killing her.
“You know, anyone who takes this long to get from first to second isn’t going to make it to the bigs,” she managed.
He laughed, the sound gusting more air over sensitive skin. “You trying to bench me?”
“No, just encourage you.”
“Hmmm.” He still sounded amused. “Then let me see if I can remember what comes next. Oh yeah. This.” His fingers closed around her nipple and tightened just enough. The lace pulled across the skin and she gasped, the sound escaping her before she could stop it.
“Or maybe this.” He jerked the lace down and replaced fingers with his mouth.
God, the man really did know what he was doing with his mouth. She pressed him closer, arching her back urging him on as he moved his attention from one breast to the next, sucking and nibbling and licking and setting her skin on fire. He lay across her this time, weight only on one arm, freeing his hand to add to the torment. He used his fingers as skillfully as his tongue, manipulating flesh and damp lace and driving her rapidly out of her mind. Her shirt was pushed down over her shoulders, trapping her arms mostly at her sides so that she couldn’t free her own hands to explore his skin. No, she just had to lie there and let him do what he wanted, which was appallingly sexy, the knowledge that she was half naked on his desk while he was fully clothed and in control.
