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“Like me,” she said, as he confirmed what she’d suspected. His initial dislike of her hadn’t just been because of her hooker boots. Everything about her had been like salt on his most painful wound.
“Are you calling yourself pretty?” he teased.
She smiled back. “Aren’t I?”
His eyes roamed over her face, warming every spot they touched. “You’re beautiful.”
She clucked her tongue. “Well played, Mr. Wyatt. Bet you’ve been practicing that delivery in the mirror—”
And then he kissed her. Really kissed her.
Not a kiss out of anger or frustration or an attempt to prove something. He was kissing her because he wanted to. And she was kissing him right back.
He set both of their wineglasses on the table, but before he could reach for her again, she’d launched herself at him, straddling his lap.
“I should have known it would only be a matter of time before you tried to take control,” he said.
“Tried to take control?” she asked. She ground her hips slightly against the bulge in his jeans. “Feels to me like I am in control.”
“Oh yeah?” He leaned forward and nipped at the tip of her breast. Even though it was through the layers of her shirt and bra, she gasped.
“Are you sure we should do this?” she asked breathlessly.
“No. I’m never sure of anything with you.”
They stared at each other, both aware that they were on a ledge from which there was no turning back. She willed him to
make the first move. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand behind her neck, then his fingers tangled roughly in her hair. He pulled her close but didn’t kiss her again. He seemed to be waiting for her permission.
Lost in the storm of his eyes, she felt herself leaning forward slightly, her lips parting.
He needed no further invitation. His arm slid around her lower back, pulling her toward him as his other hand tugged her face roughly down to his. If the kiss in the park today had been unexpectedly steamy, she went into this kiss fully expecting the rush. And it delivered.
Gray may have initiated the kiss, but Sophie took it over, rubbing her body against his in blatant want, even as she kept her mouth light and teasing. She wouldn’t let him take the kiss as deep as he wanted, and she loved the growing tension in his body. Finally he simply clamped his hands on her hips and held her against him, allowing her full reign over him. She tasted everything she could reach.
The kiss was every bit as hot as the one earlier in The Castle, but this one had an extra layer of emotion. Somewhere under the burning haze of sexual desire she felt the pull of something else.
This kiss wasn’t just about this moment. It held the promise of something more. Much more.
Pushing the thought out of her mind, she bit his bottom lip. Gray growled, and had apparently reached his limit in allowing control to someone else because he pulled back and took over. Suddenly, she was her back on his leather couch, staring up into eyes that had gone nearly black. His hands slid to her waist and held her still.
They were both breathing heavily, and she tried to resist the urge to say something witty. It wasn’t exactly a moment for talking, but she saw the same confused emotion in his eyes that she was feeling, and she longed to say something to lighten the mood.
They weren’t ready for this kind of intensity. She opened her mouth to make a joke, but Gray set two fingers over it, brushing her lips softly. He tore his gaze away from her face, and his eyes roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he looked.
Touch me, she thought.
As if hearing her plea, his hand slowly began stroking along her side, his fingertips just barely brushing the undersides of her breasts before they swept idly back down to her waist. She let her hands do some exploring of their own, learning the shape of his shoulders and the slope of his chest. He’d changed into a casual white button-down when they’d gotten back to his house, and her fingers toyed with the buttons, searching his eyes for any indication that he was going to back out.
Then his hands slid back up over her breasts and squeezed softly. Nope, he definitely didn’t want to stop. She closed her eyes and arched her back as his thumbs began brushing against the tight peaks of her breasts. Sophie wanted his mouth there, but he continued toying with her, alternating with playful tweaks and slow caresses.
Her fingers resumed their mission of unbuttoning his shirt, loving each inch of skin she revealed. She raked her nails slightly down his chest and he sucked in a breath before pulling her into a sitting position. All pretense of patience gone, she tore at his shirt as he tugged awkwardly at her cardigan.
When he roughly pulled her shirt over her head, he groaned at the sight of her in a bra and jeans. She wasn’t exactly wearing her sexiest lingerie, but luckily she’d skipped the ugly nude-colored bargain bra this morning and had settled on a very respectable baby-blue demi-cup.
He looked at her nearly exposed breasts as though he wanted to devour her. She wanted him to devour her. Instead he merely ran one finger along the top slope of her right breast.
“Pretty,” he whispered.
