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Her fingers pressed against his skin. “This one’s different.”
“I know.” He felt her drawing closer.
“I’m writing the rules this time.” Her blue eyes lit with excitement as if the power to control her destiny was a present she’d only now begun to unwrap. Unable to look away, Mark saw the moment desire rose up to meet her newfound joy.
He withdrew his hand and reached for his hot cocoa, downing the remains of the lukewarm liquid. “I should go.”
Mark pushed back from the table and stood. But Amy followed, stepping close, invading his space. Her hands rose, and before he could move away, he felt her palms touch his face.
He froze, not daring to move. He didn’t even blink, just stared down at her. There was a question in her eyes, but it was one he couldn’t answer. This had to be her choice. The pulsing need building in him, the desire to wrap his arms around her and taste her—that had no place in this silent conversation.
Her gaze narrowed in on his lips, her body shifting toward his, closing the gap but stopping short of pushing up against him. Rising onto her tiptoes, she touched her lips to his.
Mark closed hi
s eyes, his hands forming tight fists at his sides. Her lips moved over his. He felt her tongue touch his lower lip as if asking for more. Unable to hold back, he gave in, opening his mouth to her kiss, deepening it, making it clear that this kiss was not tied to an offering of friendship and comfort.
Amy’s hands moved over his jaw, running up through his hair. Pulling, tugging, holding his mouth tightly against hers. He groaned. She tasted like chocolate—sweet and delicious. He wanted more, so damn much more.
Her fingers ran down the front of his shirt, moving lower and lower. His body hardened, ready and wanting.
The thought of her hand on his cock...
He reached for her wrist, gently drawing her away. She looked up, her blues eyes brimming with uncertainty.
“Amelia Mae.” He leaned closer, his lips touching her ear, allowing her to hear the low growl of need in his voice. “Let me know when you’ve written your rules.”
* * *
AMY MENTALLY CATALOGED the familiar sounds of her house as her mind raced to catch up with what she’d done. Mark’s footsteps on the wood, the sound of the guest room door opening and closing, the click of Jango’s nails on the floor as he moved off his dog bed—
I kissed Mark!
She stumbled back a step and sank into her chair. Jango rested his head on her lap, waiting and ready to help her.
“I kissed Mark.” Saying the words out loud did little to diminish her shock. Yes, she’d thought about it, wanted it, but doing it? Jango nosed her hand as if unsure if she needed comfort or saving at that moment. She wasn’t sure herself.
In the walls, the pipes rattled to life. He’d turned on the shower.
“And I sent him running for a cold shower,” she whispered.
A slow grin formed on her lips. She could picture him standing under the cool spray, every muscular inch stripped bare. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the chair, holding her place, preventing her from invading his shower. The thought of joining him, licking the water off his chest, his abs, nearly propelled her out of the chair and down the hall.
Was he wondering the same thing? Imaging how her mouth would feel on his skin as he stood there?
Maybe he was waiting for her to take charge.
“I could do it,” she murmured. For the first time, she felt as if anything was possible, as if she could control her future. “I could interrupt his shower.”
But first, she needed to determine the boundaries, find the limits and write her rules. She wanted sex—craved it—but not heartbreak. Not this time.
She stood, her body still on edge with desire, and headed for the hall, Jango at her side. She paused, her gaze locked on the guest bedroom door. The pipes rattled again as he turned off the shower.
Amy turned away. “Bed. Now. Before I do something stupid like offer to towel him dry.”
9
MARK WIPED HIS BROW with the handkerchief from his back pocket. For the past few days, winter had been holding on. But today, spring had decided to show her face, raising the temperature a good fifteen degrees while they constructed the last of the dog runs behind the kennel.
