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Reaching for the bottle, he splashed a fair amount into the glasses. They both took deep sips.
Jenna let out another sigh. “Perfect. Remember the first time we tried a Franc?”
“How could I forget? Our honeymoon at the Hotel Del Coronado.”
“What a fantastic time,” she said. “I loved digging my feet into the cool sand at the end of the day while we sipped wine, searched for shooting stars across the night sky and listened to the waves crashing on the shore.”
Rafe tried to block the images of her naked body as they flashed in his mind, along with other memories of those seven wickedly hot nights in San Diego. Making love with Jenna until the sun came up. Grabbing a few hours of sleep, a quick shower and a bite to eat, then tumbling back into bed.
As he took another drink from his glass, he fought the natural compulsion to stand up, uncross her legs and step into the vee her parted thighs would create.
He wanted to sweep his fingers over her silky skin to confirm the response his touch would elicit. He wanted to palm her breasts and kiss her full, enticing lips. He wanted to drag her panties over her hips and down her legs so he could taste the very essence of her. Inhale her intoxicating scent, which wafted his way so faintly. The rich aroma from her perfume and the subtle smell of her arousal did crazy-wicked things to his insides.
He wanted to get naked with her.
But that would be all bad and wrong.
Wouldn’t it?
Internally agonizing over his dilemma, he drained
his glass and reached for the bottle again. He poured more of the Cabernet Franc into both their wineglasses.
She swirled the burgundy-colored liquid in the bowl before sniffing it. “Nice bouquet. Bold, but not overwhelming.” Setting aside her glass, she picked up the pad of paper and the pen lying beside the food and jotted down the pairing. Returning her attention to Rafe, she added, “Feel free to finish the lasagna.”
“I would, but there’s only one fork,” he countered in a droll tone.
“Wasn’t expecting company, as you’ll recall.” Her feisty look made him chuckle. Then she stepped up the game. Hacking off a hunk of lasagna with her fork, she extended her arm in his direction, offering the bite to him.
Rafe eyed the food—and the challenge—presented. He’d never considered sharing utensils an intimate act, but that’s exactly how it felt, knowing Jenna’s mouth had been on the flatware just moments before.
She leaned toward him, the tops of her full, firm breasts cresting the scalloped edges of her bra, ensnaring him even more. Forbidden fruit had never been so irresistible.
He resigned himself to calling forth an old trick from his teenage years in order to keep his erection from popping the buttons on his fly.
Think of baseball.
Nuns at St. Mary’s High School.
Cousin Bernice’s first cheesecake. The crust of which she’d burned.
A sacrilege, burnt cheesecake.
The diversionary tactic was only mildly successful. Jenna’s gaze locked with his, making it almost impossible to think of those things he tried to concentrate on. The woman wove a web so sticky he wondered how he’d ever escape.
“Promise I don’t have cooties,” said the spider to the fly, a hint of amusement in her voice. Because she knew she was kicking ass at this game.
“Anyone ever mention you’re a bit of a smartass?”
“Not a bit,” she admitted with that dazzling smile of hers.
Italian Catholic boys knew better than to be lured by sinful-looking women in risqué lingerie, yet Rafe leaned toward this one and took a big bite out of the proverbial apple.
Bypassing the fork entirely, he inched closer to her and brushed his lips over hers. She let out a startled squeak a second before his mouth covered hers. He kissed her slowly, leisurely, as she warmed up to him. A small moan lodged in her throat. His heart swelled and his erection surged. Jenna’s soft lips parted, and his tongue swept inside, tangling with hers.
He rose off the stool and uncrossed her legs, as he’d imagined doing moments before. His large frame wedged between her thighs as his hands moved to her hips, gripping them as he kissed her deeply. His bare chest pressed to hers, the skin-on-skin-and-lace contact electrifying. He could take her right here, right now, and be one hell of a happy man.
But just as he wondered how on earth they’d ever walked away from such searing chemistry, Jenna’s cell phone rang.
