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He didn’t even try to resist. With a helpless groan, he lowered his mouth to hers, catching her lips in a wet, deep kiss. She met his tongue with her own, wanting to taste every bit of him, to drink him in as she’d drunk the wine.
He moved his hand from her waist, sliding it up her body in a slow, smooth caress. She arched toward him, her breasts aching and heavy. He cupped her through her clothes, making her shudder in his arms.
As if unable to resist, he tugged her sweater up, revealing her stomach, inch by inch. The cold air in the room made her flesh pucker, but he warmed it with his touch. She whimpered against his mouth and shifted closer, until she nearly sat on his lap while they exchanged deep, slow kisses. When his hand paused below her breast, she wanted to cry, and sent him a mental demand to continue.
“Oh, yes,” she said with a throaty sigh when he finally did. He touched the lace of her bra, then higher, slipping his fingers inside the fabric to brush his fingertips across her puckered nipple.
She felt an ache, low in her belly. No, lower...in the hollow place between her legs. She’d never felt this intense a need before. Even during her few sexual encounters, Meg had never been as aroused, as fully in tune with her body, as she was now in Joe’s arms.
“Please, Joe,” she whispered when he continued those maddeningly delicate touches.
“Please what? Please stop?”
“Stop and I just might have to shove you off the balcony!”
He grinned, then slid her bra strap off her shoulder, pushing it down until her breast fell free. “You are spectacular,” he whispered as he looked at her, catching her fullness in his hand.
Frankly, Meg had never been too sure why men were so fixated on women’s breasts. But the look on Joe’s face now—adoration, appreciation, pure desire—made her very confident.
“I have to taste you, Meg.”
He lowered his mouth to kiss her there, working his way in tiny tastes to her nipple. She took in shuddery, panting breaths, anticipation making her shake.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, arching her back, wanting him to stop torturing her with the warmth of every exhaled breath and those gentle nips and kisses. Wrapping her fingers in his hair, she threw back her head and moaned when he finally moved his lips over the taut tip of her breast and sucked deeply.
Hot, liquid desire spread down through her body, settling with throbbing intensity between her thighs. “Oh, touch me, please,” she said, needing more, needing him to do something about the awful, delicious, maddening, incredible fire.
He complied, stroking her stomach, then her hip. “Touch you where, honey?” His voice held a teasing note as he moved to pay careful attention to her other breast, increasing the pleasure even more as he toyed with her nipple. Then he lowered his hand and cupped her thigh. “Here?”
She shook her head, almost unable to speak as that touch eased up. And up. He took his sweet damn time and she was almost squealing as he drew closer to her crotch.
When his palm pressed against the hot center of her, she jerked in response and moaned. “Yes, there.”
“You’re burning up, aren’t you?” he said, his voice little more than a growl.
The Meg she’d been a couple of days ago might have felt a little embarrassed about the obvious heat and dampness he felt even through her pants. Tonight’s Meg liked that he knew how much she wanted him.
“Joe, tell me you brought something else in that picnic basket of yours.” She reached for his belt buckle. “I haven’t had to worry about birth control for a long time.”
But tonight, she fully intended to.
Joe didn’t make sense of her words at first. He was too busy enjoying the way she tasted, the heaviness of her gorgeous breast in his hand. He inhaled her, noting the way her skin smelled of vanilla and the intoxicating scent of aroused woman. The damp heat between her legs had made him shake with the need to tug off her slacks and to explore her. Fully. Deeply. Thoroughly.
But what she’d said finally sank in.
His hand stilled. He lifted his mouth and looked into her eyes, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Meg.”
A veil of disappointment dropped over her face. “You don’t have...”
He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. “I thought it was still too soon, and I didn’t bring anything.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to find the noble instincts that had prompted him to remove the condom from his wallet before he’d picked her up tonight. Maybe tomorrow he’d be glad he hadn’t given in before he’d had the chance to come clean with her. But right now, he was too aroused to muster up much appreciation. “It’s probably for the best,” he said, trying more to convince himself than her.
She uttered the kind of four-letter word that he heard every day on this construction site, though usually it was spoken by sweaty men in hard hats. He almost laughed, in spite of the incredible sense of frustration rushing through him.
“I hope you have wings, Joe,” she said. “Because I am going to push you off the balcony.”
Laughing softly, he leaned to kiss her again. Her lips parted, her tongue hungrily meeting his. Her body writhed against him, and he felt like a shit for working her up like this without having the means to take her—take them both—all the way.
Then he realized something. His sexual frustration was serious, but that didn’t mean that hers had to be. Touching her, exploring her, and tasting her all sounded perfect to him. Yeah, he might be going against his own rules to tell her everything before they had sex. And yeah, maybe it would be cheating to do what he had in mind.
