My fingers flirted with the bottom edge of her sweatshirt, before drifting beneath. Charting a path from her waist to her ribs, I let my rough palms skim her skin. A trail of gooseflesh erupted in my wake.
“Mark,” she breathed, as she shifted on her feet, impatient and eager. I knew because I felt it too. We were wearing too much clothing, and while I wanted to take my time, I felt the edge of urgency pushing me forward.
Reaching down, I loosened her grip on my pants before threading her fingers through mine and leading her down the hallway to my bedroom. It wasn’t the master suite, but it was the room that had been mine since I first bought the house. I’d never seen a reason to move to the bigger space after Hannah moved out.
Candace didn’t bother to stop and look around. She lifted my shirt and brought it up and over my head, content to explore my body rather than the room we occupied. Her hands traced reverent lines across my chest and over the rounded tops of my shoulders. Nails scored lightly down the length of my arms. I sucked in a breath as her curious touch found its way along the muscles of my abdomen to the ridges of my hips.
“Can I take these off?” Candace asked politely, her grip once again on the button of my jeans.
At my nod, she added, a little less politely, “I’m kind of obsessed with your thighs.”
Surprised laughter shot out of me, and she grinned in response. “I’m probably going to bite them.”
I laughed again. The sound cut off abruptly as she followed the fabric of my jeans to the floor, dropping to her knees as she tugged the worn denim. She was fully clothed, and I was standing in my gray boxer briefs while she knelt at my feet. “Candace,” I managed hoarsely.
But she ignored me and leaned in to press a rough, wet kiss to the top of my left thigh. Her nails dragged up my calves, over the thin skin behind my knee, and I made an involuntary sound at the sensation.
She looked up at me then, her smile a touch wicked and infinitely more confident than it had been in my kitchen minutes ago.
My brain short-circuited, and I placed a steadying hand on the mattress to my right. “Maybe you should come back up here.”
“What if I want to stay down here?” she challenged, her grin widening as she deliberately brushed her nose against the skin of my inner thigh.
I swallowed. “Then this will all be over very quickly.”
“That’s okay. We can do other things.”
It was the image of all those other things flashing through my mind that had me hurriedly pulling her to her feet. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Should we match?” she teased.
“Yes,” I agreed and gripped the hem of her sweatshirt. Then I met her gaze and asked with intent, “Can I undress you, Candace?”
She nodded.
I lifted the soft blue fabric over her head, feeling a rush of heat as I uncovered miles of gorgeous skin. She wore a delicate white lace bra with flowers embroidered all over it. My hands felt big and clumsy at the sight. I realized I’d pauseda moment too long when Candace reached for the button fly of her jeans herself. She shrugged the denim over her hips and revealed underwear that matched.
I got it together just enough to steady her as she stepped out of her pants and tossed them to the floor.
Then she walked right to me, arms winding around my waist as she pressed all that warm skin against mine.
It was a relief to have her this close, to pull her tight and feel her heartbeat just as ragged and impatient as my own. In the circle of my arms, she let go of my waist and reached back to undo the clasp of her bra. The fabric was trapped between us until Candace shimmied a little and it fell away. Next she tucked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slid those down her legs. I felt the drag of the delicate lace all the way to the floor.
Then Candace stepped back and I got a good look at her.
I was sure characters in a movie or a book would say their heart stopped at the sight of such beauty, but mine was beating too hard and too fast for that to ever be the truth. Blood rushed in my ears, accompanying the frantic pounding in my chest. She was all gorgeous long lines—hair, legs, torso—and rosy brown nipples. A full bottom lip captured between her teeth. Toes curled into the gray carpet beneath her feet, and a steady golden-brown gaze as I did nothing but look.
“You,” I started, but then had to clear the overwhelming want from my throat. “You’re beautiful, Candace.”
She released her tortured lip and smiled before pressing her bare body to mine once more. Now, only my boxers were in the way.
Her thumbs dipped an inch inside my underwear, and she repeated against the shell of my ear, “Should we match?”
“Yes,” I breathed in answer.
And she lowered my boxer briefs to the ground. My erection was hot and hard between us, and as I felt Candace’s hand wrap around my length, my eyes closed.
“You’re beautiful, too,” she whispered.
