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‘Agreed,’ he said, damping down on his frustration. Whatever the problem was, it would be better to let her say it. He wasn’t going to risk scaring her off.
‘But I’ve never done this before.’
The bold statement, delivered with obvious bravado, made him feel even more clueless. He frowned, his frustration all but strangling him.
‘What exactly is this?’ he asked carefully. If she was about to tell him she was a virgin, he was going to be exceptionally annoyed with himself. How could his radar have been so spectacularly off?
‘This is a one-night stand. I usually date a guy for a while before I consider going to bed with him.’
Relief coursed through him. Relief and something else, which he decided not to examine. So she didn’t jump into bed with every guy who took her fancy. So what? Why should her sexual history matter to him? He’d always considered the double standard when it came to sex completely illogical. If a guy wanted a woman and acted on it, he certainly shouldn’t hold it against her if she did the same.
‘So what’s your point?’ he asked. And wished like hell she’d hurry up and get to it.
‘The point is…’ she began, her gaze darting away from his.
Finally.
‘I’m not the sort of woman who has spontaneous orgasms to order.’ She rushed the words as she met his gaze, her lips flattening into a firm line and her cheeks flushing a becoming shade of pink. ‘So I’d appreciate it if you didn’t rush things,’ she finished.
His lips twitched at the defiant tone.
She was actually serious. The guys she’d dated had to be idiots.
He tried to keep a good firm grip on the amusement tightening his chest. Honestly, he did.
Maybe it was the extreme sexual frustration that made him lose it, or more likely the sight of her full lips pouting adorably as she laid down the law about how she expected to be made love to… But whatever it was, he was powerless to stop the rumble of laughter rising up and bursting out of his mouth.
‘What’s so funny?’ she said, her voice ripe with exasperation.
He grasped her wrist, hauled her into his arms. ‘Why don’t I take it from here, Ruby?’ He continued to chuckle as she struggled against him.
‘You see, this is exactly the problem,’ she said, her eyes flashing, her indignation not abating one bit. ‘You don’t know me and yet you’re assuming…’
He silenced her with a kiss. Hunger quickly overwhelmed the hilarity, and she stopped wriggling. So he took his time. Hearing the sharp intake of breath as he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. Revelling in her soft little moan as he nipped her plump bottom lip. He explored in slow, determined strokes. Breathing in her scent, he tasted the delicious mix of lemon and vanilla—a cocktail of flavours that were both sweet and intoxicating. His erection swelled painfully as she writhed in his arms, her fingers threading into his hair and her tongue duelling with his in a sensual dance that made him ache.
He cradled her face in his palms as he touched his forehead to hers, listened to her ragged breathing.
‘I’m not going to rush you,’ he murmured, the humour gone. ‘I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you the whole damn day. So believe me, I intend to savour every single second.’
His lips quirked as he lifted his head and took in her dilated pupils—and the little crease of consternation on her forehead.
‘I know what I’m doing,’ he added.
‘Yes, but you don’t—’
‘And I don’t need instructions,’ he interrupted, grinning. Damn, but she was persistent. ‘I find it ruins the spontaneity.’
She moved out of his arms, propped her hands on her hips, the little crease turning into the Grand Canyon. ‘I should have guessed you’d be difficult about—’
‘That’s enough talk.’
‘Excuse me?’
Stepping forward, he whipped her bag out of her hand.
‘Hey, give that back.’
Ignoring the astonished protest, he grasped her wrist with his other hand, bent over and hefted her onto his shoulder.
