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“Scarlett, you may be the death of me.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
He groaned before kissing me. “Because you’re too damn sexy for my own good and yours.”
“You really think I’m sexy?”
He wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled against his chest.
“Darlin’.” He inhaled and exhaled deeply. “You take my breath away.”
I knew the feeling.
He lightly ran his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you usually do when you bring a woman home?” I asked naively.
He cleared his throat. “Well . . .”
“Oh. Uh . . .”
“We play chess,” he teased, trying to smooth over the awkward moment.
I lifted my head to find him grinning. “Do you play chess a lot?” Wow, was I getting bold. But I felt that it was kind of an important thing to know.
His smile faded into a thoughtful look. “Not as much as you probably think, and never since we started dating.”
“And”—I bit my lip—“you’re still okay with that, right?”
He rested his forehead against mine. “I meant what I said—you are well worth the wait.”
Oh, so he had meant sex, not marriage? Don’t ask that, Scarlett. “Thank you.”
“For what? Not being a Neanderthal? You know, contrary to popular belief, men don’t think about sex twenty-four seven. It’s more like twenty-two seven.” He laughed.
I rested my hands on his stubbled cheeks. “Thank you for letting me be me.”
“That’s easy, and selfish on my part. I happen to like who you are very much.”
There was the like word again. Not that I expected him to profess his love for me, but it would have been nice. It made me question if I was really in love. Yet, deep inside, if I was honest with myself, I knew the truth. I was falling in love with Kane. And I hoped that he would one day love me, too.
“I like you, too. A lot,” I responded, thankful my heart didn’t come falling out of my mouth for once.
“That is excellent news.” He skimmed my lips once, twice, three times before pressing his own against mine. His hand tangled in the back of my hair, drawing me closer to him before he parted my lips. My eyes drifted shut so that all my senses could focus on the way he tasted like grape-flavored shaved ice, and how urgent his tongue felt as it prodded deeper as if he couldn’t get close enough to me. The same urgency lived inside of me. My hands gripped his T-shirt and twisted it, begging him not to let me go.
When he was done ravaging my mouth, his hand pulled my head back to expose my neck. His warm lips made their slow descent down the curve of my neck to my collarbone. Each hot, wet touch made my stomach do entire gymnastic routines and my body tremble from the sheer pleasure of it all. Just when I thought he was done, his tongue lightly glided against the sensitive skin of my neck as if his tongue were a brush and I were his canvas. My gasps only emboldened him to continue his work of art.
“Mmm,” he groaned as if he were tasting a masterpiece.
“Kane.” I shuddered against him.
“Scarlett,” he whispered before capturing my mouth again. This time his kiss was slower and gentler, yet just as intense. So intense, I could see how easy it would be to play chess with him, and how vulnerable the queen was. The thought frightened and excited me. But I knew I wasn’t ready for checkmate. I was barely getting to know myself. And if I didn’t know all of me, how could I share myself with someone else? Not only that, but it became clear to me that when the time came, love needed to come first. My soul screamed out that I must be loved. That sex didn’t make love. If it did, my father wouldn’t have been married so many times.
I took one more moment to get lost in his touch before my hands released his shirt and I gently pulled away from him.
We needed a moment to breathe as we peered into each other’s enlivened eyes. Both our cheeks were flushed.
“I’m sorry for getting so carried away, Scarlett.”
I placed my fingers on his swollen lips. “I’m not. I hope we get carried away a lot.”
He kissed my fingers before taking my hand in his. “You overestimate my self-control.”
“I don’t think so. I trust you, Kane.”
A sheeny mist of moisture covered his eyes. “I will continue to be worthy of your trust.”
I believed him. I snuggled back against him, and he held me tight. All felt right in the world.
“Who’s the singer?” I pointed at the sound system near his giant flat screen. His place had minimal furniture, but what he did have was expensive. It told me he valued quality over quantity, and just like the Porsche he was saving up for, he was willing to work for what he wanted.
