Page 45 of One Night with Number Nineteen

One decidedly stupid thing.

One decidedly stupid thing I do anyway.

I close the distance between us…

And I slant my lips over his.

Then gasp as sensation explodes through me, hot sparks of pleasure coalescing into need that grips me in its talons and threatens to shake all sense of reason out of me.

Or maybe I’ve already lost it.

Because after a moment of stillness or maybe shock, he bands his arms around me and kisses me back.

And oh what a kiss it is.

Firm lips, a sleek tongue, that strong body of his pressed flush to mine.

I moan and he holds me closer, tighter, then groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine, teasing my nipples, sending heat arrowing between my thighs.

“Christ,” he growls, breaking his lips from mine, dragging them down my throat.

I shiver, press closer.

Then gasp when he scoops me up and settles me on the counter, stepping between my legs and kissing me again.

Our tongues dance and our bodies rock together, and when he slips his hand beneath the bottom of my blouse, I press closer, loving the feel of his slightly roughened fingertips trailing over my skin.

Trailing up my skin.

Tracing lightly beneath the edge of my bra and, when I arch slightly, cupping my breast.

We both moan and for a second, I press myself into him.

Then a flash of Ben doing this same thing slams into me.

Another time.

Another life.

Another man.

I freeze and Sawyer immediately pulls back. “Too much?” he asks softly, his chest heaving, his eyes molten pools of sapphires.

I nod jerkily.

A slow, deep breath.

Then he retreats a pace.

“I’m sorry,” I say, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Fingers trailing over my jaw, the corners of his lips twitching, “I’m really glad you did.”

I snort.

He grins.

Then sobers. “I’ll head out of here,” he says softly, helping me down from the counter.