He needed to communicate to her how much he was in this. Hell, he was getting hard just thinking about being with her. He put his arm over the sofa and leaned in, brushing his hand over her hair. “Trust me, Chelsea. What we have together feels anything but cold to me.”
She inhaled, then let it out. “You’re right. And that’s the problem. There’s an intense heat between us. Very distracting. But in a good way. And also in a bad way.”
His lips curved.
“I’m not making much sense, am I? See, this is why we have to have sex.”
“Obviously.”
“I need to stop overanalyzing it. So … we’re agreed then? Sex with no strings?”
He stood and reached for her hand. “It’s a deal.”
Chelsea finally exhaled, moved a sleeping Lou to the sofa, then took Bash’s hand. The contact of their fingers touching was electrifying.
What was it about him that got to her like that? A simple touch and her nerve endings were frazzled.
Tonight was going to take care of that. She was going to finally stop thinking about it, dreaming about it. She was ready.
More than ready, actually.
He pulled her to stand, then skimmed his hand down her back. His touch made her shiver in all the right ways, the wickedly, deliberately hot look he gave her making her damp in all the right places.
“All night, Chelsea. And all day tomorrow. No running. You’re either in or you’re out. Decide before we get started.”
Her eyes widened. “All day tomorrow?”
His lips curved in a sexy smile that melted her feet to the floor.
“I’m very thorough. This isn’t going to be a once-and-done thing.”
She swallowed, her throat gone dry. She was already imagining the things they could do together with all that time. “Oh. Okay, then. All day tomorrow, too.”
“Good.” He slid his hand into her hair, gripped a handful of it like he meant business, and put his mouth on hers. At the same time his other hand slid down to her butt, cupping it and drawing her body close to his.
It shocked her senseless. There was nothing tentative about the kiss. It was a man taking possession of a woman, and it was everything she’d fantasized about. Her heart pounded, she felt damp and weak and all those things she’d read about when she read the love scenes in her favorite romance novels, but had never experienced before. She’d been kissed, but not like this. Not the kind of kiss that made her feel light-headed, that made her clutch Bash’s shirt and hold on for dear life as he plundered her senses with relentless intent. She felt feverish with desire, with the need to tear off all their clothes and get to the really good stuff, but at the same time she wanted to linger, to feel his lips on hers, his tongue sliding against hers, to feel the way his body pressed into hers as he moved them toward the sofa.
He pulled away from the kiss only long enough to bend down, scoop Lou off the sofa, and gently set her on the floor. Lou scampered out of the room, and Bash pressed Chelsea down to the sofa.
“Shouldn’t we head to the bedroom?” she asked as Bash lay on top of her.
“We’ll get there. Eventually. I’ve had fantasies about you on this couch ever since I kissed you here that night.”
She palmed his chest, felt his raging heartbeat against her hand. “Is that right? What kind of fantasies?”
“Lots of them. Like getting you naked and licking you all over. Or bending you over the sofa and taking you that way. You have a great ass, Chelsea. Have I ever mentioned that?”
Could a woman die from hearing a man talking dirty to her? Or how about her heart exploding when he pulled her shirt up and laid his hand on her stomach, then inched his fingers up to cup her breast over her bra?
They hadn’t even gotten to the really good stuff yet and she was already close to hyperventilating. She let out a whimper.
“Shh,” he said, hovering over her as he pulled one of the cups of her bra down, his thumb brushing over her nipple. “We’ll take it slow so you can breathe a little.”
She gasped as he teased and tweaked her nipple. “That … is not taking it slow.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s not?”
In a flash he had her top lifted over her head. He was straddling her hips and she had an opportunity to look her fill at the way his T-shirt fit so tightly over his chiseled chest, and the oh-so-prominent erection that wasn’t concealed by his sweats.
“Shirt off,” she managed in between breaths.
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the nearby chair where he’d thrown hers.
She couldn’t resist sitting up to span her hands over his flat, muscled abs, his wide chest, and his amazing shoulders.
And, suddenly, he’d unhooked her bra and slid the straps down her arms.
“Now, we’re going to have some fun,” he said, resting her back against one arm. “You’re so beautiful, Chelsea.”
He swept his hand over her neck, her collarbone, then her breasts, touching her, inflaming her as he teased her nipples to tight, hard points. He put his mouth on one of the throbbing buds, making her moan his name. She was his for the taking, and damn if she cared.
She arched up toward him, needing more of the pull to temptation, of his wet, hot mouth on her.
It had been so long since her body had been worshipped like this, since a man had wholly focused his attention on her. Bash was a man on a mission, and as he slid off the sofa and removed her shoes, then undid the button and zipper of her jeans and pulled them off, she felt his undivided attention.