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Or was that me?
It didn’t matter, because he changed the kiss, covering her body with his own, going from sweet to full-on sex in a heartbeat. She reached for him, one hand threading through his curls on his head, the other the curls on his chest. So soft, both places. Just as she’d hoped they’d be.
His skin against hers was warm, his lips firm and insistent, and she cursed that she needed air. She pulled away just far enough to draw in a breath. “You’re good at this.”
His lips curved against hers. “You’re good for my ego. I was afraid I’d be out of practice.”
His thumb brushed a sizzling path a fraction of an inch closer to her breast, making her want to grab his hand and move it herself. But this was seduction, and she hadn’t been seduced in a very long time. “Practice never hurts.”
She bent one knee, bracketing his hip, lifting her own hips to feel how much he wanted her. She shivered, because, if the rigid length in his boxer briefs was any indication, he wanted her very much. Despite her exhaustion, her body flared to life, and she needed more. She slid her hand beneath the elastic waist of his underwear, wanting to learn his body more intimately, exhaling on a hiss when she wrapped her fingers around him. He was big and hard and ready. Very ready.
With a quiet groan, he thrust into her hand. “The things I want to do to you.” He thrust again. “With you.”
“Tell me,” she whispered.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered back, his voice gone deeper, his accent thicker. Richer. His fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, making her shiver in anticipation. “Can I touch you, Molly?”
There was only one answer for her, here in this moment that was just for them. “Yes. Please.”
His hand finally cupped her breast, his thumb lightly flicking her nipple. “I want to touch you all over. I want to learn what you like. I want to taste you. I want to be inside you, and I want to hear you moan for me.”
She couldn’t have silenced her moan if she’d tried. “Yes. Yes, please.”
Central Business District, New Orleans, Louisiana
TUESDAY, JULY 26, 9:55 P.M.
Yes. Yes, please.
Molly’s words echoed in his mind and it was all Gabe could do to keep his touch gentle. He’d held himself in check all this time, ever since she’d first walked into the Choux, contenting himself with only looking.
Not touching. Not tasting.
Not having.
But she’d said yes.
Hands trembling, he urged her arms over her head and pulled her T-shirt up and over her breasts. And let himself take a moment to stare. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“So are you,” she whispered back, then made a needy little noise. “Gabe, come on.”
He flashed her a grin. “Impatient.”
“Damn straight.”
“I thought of you,” he confessed. “Every time you’d come into my place, I’d watch you and then I’d think of you later.”
Her lips curved slyly. “Did you jerk off when you’d think of me?”
His eyes widened, his cheeks heating. Hell, they were on freaking fire. But he nodded. “I did.”
She licked her bottom lip. “I might have thought of you a time or two. When I was lying in my bed. All alone.”
Shuddering at the mental image, he kissed her lips, then kissed the curve of her jaw. “You’re not alone now.”
“No, I’m not.” She rocked her hips, rubbing herself against him, and he groaned softly, conscious that her friend was on the other side of the adjoining door, likely listening for anything that sounded like trouble. “Kiss me, Gabe. Stop thinking and kiss me.”
Not waiting for him to comply, she shoved her fingers through his hair and pulled him down, crashing their mouths together.
