Page 15 of It's a Widow Thing

“And that worries me.”

Oh.He leaned back. This was turning out to be an ab workout. “Tell me why.”

“Because I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

“Because your job is so intense?”

She swallowed hard while her eyes swept back and forth across his face. There was that hesitation again. He wished to hell he understood it. “That’s some of it.”

There had to be more, but he didn’t want to push too hard. “So what do we do now?”

She set her finger on her bottom lip, reminding him exactly what it had felt like to kiss her. “I have one idea, but you’re going to have to close your eyes.”

“Are you going to tie me up and rob me?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Look. If I wanted to rob you, I would have done it right after dessert. I just need you to trust me, okay? I want to do something, but if you don’t close your eyes, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Really?” He didn’t have the foggiest idea where she was headed, but if she was nervous about doing it, it had to be good. His mind was filled with countless sexy possibilities.

“Yes. Just let me do my thing.” She crinkled her lips.

“Fair enough.” He did as he was told, hearing the heaviness of his own breath as soon as his eyes were closed. Next came a soft thunk, which he presumed was her wineglass on the table. His mind raced, wondering what she was about to do. He got a bit of an answer when he felt warm skin against the back of his hand. She shifted closer. Some part of her touched his knee, and although he was completely certain it wasn’t her ass, he allowed himself to conjure the image. He simply couldn’t restrain his brain right now.

“Why are you smiling?” she asked softly. The words came across a short distance. She was close.

“Is that bad?”

“It’s distracting.”

Michael made a serious effort to straighten his expression, wiggling his lips back and forth. “Better?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Okay.” Her perfume teased his nose. “I wasn’t completely honest when we walked to my office. When I played off your question about intimate thoughts. I’ve thought about you a lot since the cocktail party. Alot.” Her hand pressed the side of his face and he turned toward it, every part of him conditioned to pursue her. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”

His throat felt tight, but he had to know. “The kiss?”

“Yes.”

“It was pretty great, wasn’t it?”

Her perfume became more potent. Warm, sweet air swirled around him. “It was amazing.”

He was desperate for more intel. “Whenhave you thought about it?”

Something silky brushed his temple. Her hair? “When I’m working. Watching TV. In bed before I fall asleep.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “I’d love to be there for any and all of that.” He imagined Sabrina in bed, dark hair flowing across the pillow, eyes closed, lost in daydreams of their kiss. He’d had identical thoughts about her, although his stroll down memory lane had most definitely involved his hand beneath the sheets, firmly wrapped around his cock, while he imagined burying himself in her.

“Youkissedmethat night,.” she murmured.

“I did.”

“And now it’s my turn.”

A heartbeat later, her lips were on his, supple and impossibly giving. The simultaneous relief and rush of excitement was a lot for his body to take. The hair on his arms stood on end. His dick endured a rush of pure fire and urgency. Her fingers smoothed over the nape of his neck pulling him closer when he was equally eager for the same thing. Every motion of her mouth hinted at surrender.

His own hands had to go… somewhere. He opened his eyes and reached for her hip, the one farthest from him, countering her pull with his own. The give of her luscious ass beneath his fingertips was so much better than he’d imagined, even when masked by the skirt. It sent his mind racing, wondering where said garment might end up by the end of the night.

Their tongues spiraled in a white-hot whirlwind of need. Sabrina’s hand slipped beneath his shirt collar, fingers digging into his shoulder. He possessively gripped her hip, wrapped his other hand around her ribcage, using his thumb to rub the side of her breast.