“You can hang your coat up if you want,” she said, pointing into the closet where she’d just hung hers.
“Thanks.” Now came the awkward transition time between the pickup and the bedroom, he mused as he put his phone, keys, and wallet in his coat pockets and hung the garment on an empty hanger.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, and there was nothing awkward about the way she looked at him. She wasn’t nervous or trying to figure out the next step. She just wasn’t in a hurry to get on with it. “I have vodka, coffee, and water.”
He chuckled. “I’ll take a glass of water. I’m a decaf-after-dark kind of guy.”
“Noted.” She walked toward the refrigerator. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Choosing the corner of the sofa that allowed him to watch her fill two glasses with ice and water from the fridge dispensers, he did as he was told.
He’d eaten at the bar his first night in the city, on the recommendation of some of his teammates who knew Boston well. Finding a place with good food where he would go totally unnoticed could be hard at times, even when he wasn’t in Baltimore, so he’d been happy with it at first. Then he’d seen Kristen walk through the door and became an instant regular.
There had been eye contact the second night, when she’d been on her way to the ladies’ room, and he’d seen the interest. But he hadn’t approached her or struck up a conversation because the last thing he needed right now was any kind of a relationship. It might vent some of his pent-up frustrations, but it wouldn’t be fair to a woman who was looking for more.
When she walked over to his table tonight, any willpower he might have been able to summon was depleted the second he looked up. Her soft sweater and well-worn jeans hugged ample curves his hands wanted to explore, and the athlete in him had been just as aroused by the challenge in her bright blue gaze.
Can you handle this?
He was sure as hell going to try.
Kristen handed him one of the glasses before sitting in the other corner of the couch, slightly sideways so she could see him.
“I don’t really care what you do for work or what your zodiac sign is,” she said, and he appreciated the bluntness. They were both on the same page, then. “But what I do want to know is if you usually choose where you spend your evenings based on rumors about their grilled chicken.”
“Good grilled chicken is hard to find.” It was one of the truest things he’d ever said. “Good grilled chicken I can eat while watching you? That I’ll keep coming back for.”
“If I hadn’t joined you tonight, how long would it have taken you to approach me?”
He probably wouldn’t have, no matter how badly he wanted to talk to her. If she wanted his company, she’d let him know. He’d been expecting a flirtatious smile or a tip of her head toward the empty stool next to her, but instead she’d made her interest a little more plain. He liked that about her.
“I would have worked my way around to it,” he said, not wanting her to feel as if he would have just passed her by. And maybe he would have broken his own rule and approached her eventually because she wasnota woman a person could keep passing by. “I didn’t want to be pushy.”
“I don’t mind pushy.” She paused to take a sip of her drink, still watching him over the rim of her glass. “Just be prepared for me to push back.”
Anticipation flooded his veins as she stood and took the few steps needed to close the distance between them. She set her drink down and then took the water out of his hand. When she set the glass next to hers, he assumed she’d take his hand and lead him to her bedroom, but she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the soft, black leggings she was wearing and peeled them down before kicking them away.
Catching a glimpse of silky black panties when she threw one leg over his, Will ran his hands over her thighs as she straddled his lap. His fingertips pressed into her soft flesh, denting her skin, and his dick strained against his fly.
She pulled the sweater off and flung it away, treating him to the sight of her pale skin covered by a cream-colored, lace-trimmed bra before she leaned down and covered his lips with hers.
He closed his eyes, her mouth claiming his as his hands roamed her soft, curvy body. She was lush and perfect and the way she moaned when his thumbs brushed over her taut, fabric-covered nipples seemed to vibrate through his entire body.
This, he thought, was going to be so worth closing his book for.
2
The man certainly knew how to kiss a woman.
Kristen let herself savor the sensation of having a man under her. It wasn’t a pleasure she indulged in often, so she intended to enjoy the hell out of this one while she had him. His kiss was demanding, almost rough, and his fingertips bit into her thighs before his hands slid up to cup her breasts.
She expected him to go right for the clasp, but he ran his thumbs over the satin fabric, making circles around her taut nipples. Then he pinched, almost painfully, and she moaned against his lips.
In case he was waiting for permission, she unclasped the bra herself before undoing the lower two buttons of the Henley shirt. She wanted him naked sooner rather than later.
He didn’t pull the straps down and fling the bra away. Instead, as she broke off the kiss and straightened her back, he slid his hands under the fabric and cupped her breasts again before slowly drawing the straps down her arms. She watched him stare at her body, and his expression left no doubt he was very into soft curves.
When his mouth closed over her nipple, she ran her fingers through his thick dark hair before stroking the side of his beard. It was soft, not prickly, and she was looking forward to feeling it on the inside of her thigh.
