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“As my escort for the evening. You were wonderful.”
“If I hadn’t wanted to come with you tonight, darlin’, I wouldn’t have.” His eyes glittered. “I’m here because I want to be. Because this was a date. A real date.”
Had he drunk so much that he’d fallen into the same fantasy as she had?
“My father is a very persuasive man. Maybe you just think you want to be here.”
“What? He used some kind of super-politician force to trick me into thinking I wanted to spend my evening with his lovely daughter?” Ty shook his head, blew a puff of cold breath into his hands, then smiled wickedly at her. “I don’t think so. We Texans are made of stronger stuff. I’m here because I want to be with you. No other reason.”
Eleanor blushed. “Thank you.”
“No. Thank you, Ellie.” Then he surprised her by pulling her to him. He kissed her fully on the mouth despite the fact they stood on the street and Lord only knew who might see them.
She didn’t care. Later she might, but at the moment all that mattered was that he was kissing her. Finally.
His lips were firm, confident, sure in their movements over hers. He tasted of heaven. He tasted of fire.
She wanted more. Much more.
Her fingers wove into the hair at his nape. Soft strands with just a touch of curl. She’d done so throughout the evening while dancing, but now she latched on, clasping the locks tightly within her grasp, needing him closer and closer still.
Vaguely she was aware of the limousine pulling up to the curb, of her and Ty separating long enough for him to generously tip the attendant and to help her into the back of the car.
Then he joined her and she was back where she wanted to be.
In Ty Donaldson’s arms.
Ty moved in a blur. A desire-driven blur.
One spurred on by a woman he foolishly hadn’t realized capable of such passion.
Ellie had passion.
He pressed his lips to her throat just so, and she moaned, spurring him on. He traced his hands down her body, touching places he’d carefully avoided while holding her on the dance floor.
“You are so hot,” he breathed against her throat, caressing his way to the sweet indention at her clavicle
.
“Because you’re touching me,” she answered in a husky tone, her fingers threading through his hair, holding him to her. “That makes me feel hot.”
Somehow they made it into his apartment still dressed.
Once he closed the door and secured the lock, he made haste with her dress, letting it drop somewhere on the way to his bedroom.
He pushed her back onto his bed, loving how she looked lying there, watching him as he stripped off his clothes in record time.
“Wow,” she breathed, reaching her hand up to run over his abs. “You’re perfect, Ty.”
“You’re what’s perfect,” he corrected, joining her on the bed and pressing his body against hers. “So very perfect. See how you fit against me? Perfect.”
Her mouth and hands were all over him, leaving trails of goose bumps, making waves through his nervous system, rewriting his definition of pleasure.
Pushing her bra aside, he closed his lips around one pert nipple, then the other, taking turns laving her until she arched off the bed.
“Ty.” Her fingers cradled his head. He suckled harder, taking great pleasure in her breasts, in her passionate responses to his every touch.
“Tell me what you want, Ellie,” he encouraged, wanting to give her every pleasure, wanting to give her everything within his power to give. “Tell me where to touch you, how you want to be touched.”
