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Oh. She’d said that. “How can your hand feel thatgood?”to be exact.
He smiled. She knew it, because she felt it against her mouth. He was kissing her at the corner of it, his lips moving across her cheek to the spot beside her ear. He murmured into it, “Feels good to me, too. Going slow. And ‘brilliant’ means your skin’s like silk.”
“I’m nearly forty, though,” she felt compelled to point out. “Oh. Move your hand like that. Don’t stop.”
“Mm. Thought you were thirty-eight. You’ve told me so about three times now. And I’m forty-three. My skin doesn’t feel this soft. Or this good.”
His lips found the spot just beneath and in front of her earlobe, and she shuddered. “You like that?” he asked.
“Oh.” She sighed. “Yes. Do it some more.”
“I’ll have to take this thing off to do it right.”
She opened her eyes and did her best to glare at him. “Are you going to announce every move?”
“Probably,” he said, that smile back in his voice again. “It’s oddly hot.” His hand was pulling the turtleneck up, he was kissing her neck again … and then he hesitated.
“I consent,” she said. “All right? I consent.” She wanted to kisshisneck. She wanted tosmellhis neck. But she wanted him to kiss her there, too. Possibly more. Beckett over her, kissing her neck, his hand moving up in that slow way that made her want to scream … It was a dilemma.
“I’m thinking,” he said, “kids. Discovery. Interruption. Awkwardness. All that.”
“Oh.” She tried to sit up. Somehow, she seemed to be sprawled back against the arm of the couch, as if all he’d have to do was kiss her a little more, and hewouldbe over her. “Right. Probably a … probably a bad idea.”
“Or not,” he said. “Maybe a very good idea. In bed. Where I could take all your clothes off and …” Some more grazing of his hand over her sensitive skin. “Take the slow road. Do my best work.”
She tried to glare. She really did. “MaybeI’llbe doingmybest work. Did you think of that?”
“I bloody well hope you will. But mostly, I’ve got to confess, since I’m a cocky Aussie and all …” He bit down on her earlobe. Gently. “That I’m mostly thinking about me doing mine. I’ve had a few … thoughts about that.”
“Oh, yeah?” She was still trying. Give her credit for that. “Like what?”
“You want to hear?” His hand was almost there now. Almost … “You like to be sweet talked? Or is it dirty talked? Tell me which.”
“Uh …” She was probably blushing. “Nobody’s ever asked me before. Let alonesaidany of that. I may be …” She gasped. That was because his hand had strayed all the way up and was tracing the edge of her bra. Thetopedge. Lightly again, and just that touch on the swell of her breast was making her shift.
“You may be what?” His voice was lazy in her ear, because he was kissing her there. Not seeming in any huge hurry to get her sweater off, she had to say. “I’m waiting to hear.”
“You’re … distracting me,” she said. “Why does that feel sogood?”
“Because when the bloke’s enjoying doing it enough, you feel it in him, maybe. And you think about what he’s going to do next. How he’s going to touch you until you can’t wait for him to get your bra off, and he’s going to make you ask him to do it. And how it’s going to feel when his mouth is finally on you and he’s sucking you there.”
She got a spike of heat right where it worked best, and her hips actually bucked. He said, “Think I’ve figured out which you like best.”
“Which … what?” She needed him todoit. She needed …
“Dirty talk,” he said. “So let’s do this. Let’s go into your bedroom and lock the door, because I want to push you down onto your back and come down over you. And then I want to push up this sweater until I’ve got it over your head. I want to take off your bra, and then your jeans. I want to take those gorgeous thighs in my hands. I want to spread you wide. I want to lick you and suck you and put my fingers inside you until your head’s banging against the mattress and your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open and you can’t hold back anymore. And then I want to do the other thing I’ve imagined.”
She needed to get hold of herself. She didn’t get carried away. She needed to tell him, too. “You’re going to be disappointed. I don’t make noise.”
“I don’t need noise,” he said. “I need to feel you come around my hand. And my mouth.” She shuddered, a long, low, rolling thing. “Yeah,” he said. “Like that. I don’t think I’m going to be disappointed. Don’t you want to know what the other thing is?”
“What … is it?” She could hardlytalk.She could always talk! She could alwaysthink.
“I want to turn you over,” he said, his voice low, a little rough, and completely thrilling, and she was shuddering again. “And feel that gorgeous arse. I want to look at it and know it’s mine tonight. And I want to fuck you like that. Slow, and hard, and all the way. I’ll have my hand on you. I’ll make you come harder than you ever have in your life. And I’ll be fucking you hard while you do it.”
29
JOB INTERVIEW
