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I’m not sure what he’s saying even makes a difference. Lust has taken over. The need to taste him has become too strong.
“Show me,” I whisper. “Kiss me.”
He keeps his eyes locked on mine for an extra second before his lips come down to my mouth. The kiss is soft, gentle, but it sends shockwaves through my body. My fingers sink into his dark hair and I pull him to me, telling him I want more, I need more. He parts my lips with his tongue, caressing mine, tasting me. One hand stays flat on my lower back. The other moves from my hip, sliding up the side.
His touch is electric. Heat spreads all over my body, pooling in my abdomen and making my head spin. My heart is pounding in my chest. Everything is spinning out of control, and I want it to.
His hand moves up to my face, tracing my jaw before his fingers tangle in my hair, gripping the strands as he holds me against him. The kiss grows more intense, more passionate.
His lips slide across my cheek. I shiver as his stubble scrapes the side of my face. John leaves a trail of burning kisses down my neck.
I groan and my head falls back. He presses his mouth to my collarbone and his hands squeeze the flesh just above my hip. I push against him and he lifts me. My legs automatically wrap around his waist as he leans against the back of the couch.
We shouldn’t be doing this, not here in the dark, not with his daughter sleeping upstairs, but I’m so tired of fighting the attraction between us.
Our lips meet again. Savage. Hungry. Desperate.
He sucks on my bottom lip, tugging it between his. I whimper when his hand brushes lower on my back, bringing my body in line with his. He lets go of my lips and I press my face into his neck and kiss him, taking in the smell and taste of his skin.
I lose myself in him for a few moments, and nothing else matters.
As I bite down on his earlobe, a rumble comes from deep within him. His hands move over me, cupping my face, holding me in place. His kisses grow wilder, like he can’t get close enough to me. And I feel the same. I push, push to be closer to him.
Only, I might push too hard because one second we’re half-standing against the couch backrest, and the next we’re tumbling over, landing on the sofa cushions in a pile of limbs.
In the semi-darkness, John looks up at me, his lips parting in a megawatt smile. “Careful, Mayer,” he teases. He’s breathing hard, panting, like he just ran a marathon and then didn’t stop at the finish line.
I adjust my body on top of him, the fact that we’re now horizontal and I’m straddling him is not lost on me. I should be embarrassed, scramble to my feet, and go home, but this feels so right. So familiar and yet so new.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, worried about the tackle and consequent fall. “Have I cracked a rib or something?”
He laughs. “I’m fine.” The smile dies on his lips. “I’ve never been better.”
His hands move up my thighs, while my stomach drops to the floor.
John slides his palms up, following the curve of my body to my hips.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” My palms rest on his chest.
“Relax,” John whispers. “You won’t hurt me. Not unless you want to,” he adds with a wink.
I push against him. “Does this hurt?”
“In the best possible way.” His voice is a low rasp.
I move on top of him again. “And this?”
His eyes roll back in his head. “Are you trying to kill me?” His hands slide up my back, sending shivers down my spine. I tremble against him. “Because I’d be happy to go this way.”
I lower my face to his, kiss him, then let my lips wander up his neck. His pulse is pounding in his throat. His breathing hitches and slows when my mouth finds his ear. I latch onto the lobe, sucking slowly, teasing. He groans. I nibble on his earlobe, causing John to sigh. His hands go to cup my behind, pulling my body against him.
My senses are on fire, his warmth, his scent, his touch.
His lips find mine again, and he kisses me deep and long. I lose myself in the sensations. It’s just him and me. The past, the future no longer exist. Only the present, this one moment in the night, in John’s arms. And still, it’s not enough.
I pull back. “I know I said I was cold, but now I feel like I’m wearing too many clothes.”
John cups my nape, giving me solid eye contact. “Are you sure?”
