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She stalled. “Don’t say it like that.”
Oops. “Sorry, Princess.”
“Ugh, I hate it when my dad calls me that.” She laughed,
“It’s what I thought. No nicknames needed. Although I should confess I thought of you as Miss Prim and Proper when I first clapped eyes on you.”
Her eyes opened wide in surprise. “Prim and proper?”
“The business suit and all. The heavy glasses. What’s a guy supposed to think?”
She dumped the plates in the kitchen then returned to his side. “You’re supposed to think a woman is wearing her armor for the office.”
He loved that. Chuckling, he tangled his fingers with hers, tugging gently on her arm. “We’re not wearing our armor now, are we?”
“No. I already feel naked, but I often feel that way when you look at me.”
Good. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
She shook her head. “No, I feel as if I’m being admired. There’s nothing lewd or lascivious about it.”
“I’m glad it comes across that way. Because I’m all about admiring you, Lara.” He’d put her on a pedestal and admire her all day long if she’d let him.
“Why?”
She had to question everything. It was in her nature. He liked that though. Curiosity ran in her veins like blood. Even though her actions were measured, she was driven by a keen edge, the need to know and achieve and understand.
“If I’m not wrong, you like it too.” He paused. “Can you say why?”
Visibly surprised, she was silent for a moment. “I guess it makes me feel feminine, and that’s kind of... fulfilling.”
“You’re the most feminine girl I’ve ever met, despite the prim and proper armor you adopted to hunt me down in.”
The desire was clear in her eyes. Just thinking about being inside her again made him hard. She was so damned hot. Every time she was near he wanted to hold her captive in his arms, to feel her body under his. Thankfully, it was going to happen.
Anticipation shot through him, real hard need.
She wandered to the master bedroom, glancing back at him over her shoulder.
“That’s some invitation,” he murmured to himself, willing himself not to bolt after her. He needed a moment, so he collected two glasses and a bottle from the kitchen, pacing himself.
When he got to the bedroom she was standing by the bed. He caught her in the act of pulling off her top, and as she lifted it over her head and off, her hair fell, tussled, over her shoulders.
“You’re half naked already. That’s good.”
She sent him a warning glance, but there was laughter in her eyes too. She nodded at the bottle in his hand. “You think we’ll have time for a drink?”
He put the bottle and glasses down on the bedside table. “Maybe not right away.”
She chuckled softly. It was such a sexy sound.
As he closed on her, she turned away and gasped as his arms closed around her. She liked that, liked being tucked in against him. It made him smile. He ducked his head and breathed along the soft skin of her shoulder, then drew her hips close against his with a firm grasp. The perfume she wore was musky and sweet, and beneath it, the scent of her skin. He couldn’t get enough of her.
When he kissed the side of her neck she whimpered and her head feel back against his shoulder. She purred in approval He swayed and she swayed with him. Synchronised, that’s what they were. He was so ready to be inside her.
Moving his hands lower, he tugged at the zipper on her skirt and eased it down her hips, allowing it fall on the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside.
Clad only in her matching underwear, she was femininity defined in his arms, voluptuous, all curves and softness.
