Название | Call To Redemption |
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Автор произведения | Tawny Weber |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474080064 |
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Darby slapped it right back out again. Snuggling was romantic, like cuddling. It was soft and trusting and sweet.
She was so not the snuggling type.
But as her dress pressed between her thighs, the fabric rustling as it brushed his legs with every easy step, she had to admit that she just might be the sex-at-first-sight type.
She’d never met a guy before who’d made her want to strip him naked and lick caramel sauce off his body. Maybe it was time to give it a try.
“You’ve got some sweet moves.”
Lifting her head to stare into his dark eyes, she debated pointing out that Dominic was the one with the moves. She was only following along.
Before she could, he lowered his head, just those few inches, and rubbed his lips over hers.
Soft, a mere whisper.
Her knees went to water, her body flashing hot and needy in response to the instant inferno that touch set off.
God, was all she could think.
Then, still swaying to the beat of the music, he did it again.
Like grabbing for a lifeline, Darby’s hands linked behind his neck, her fingers delving into the short, thick strands of silky hair.
She tried to swallow her soft breathy moan of pleasure. No point making him think that all it took was a simple kiss and she was his for the taking. Why fool the man into thinking anything about her was that easy?
But, oh, baby. Darby melted. She actually felt herself melting into a puddle of lust.
She knew she should take a step back and think this through. Consider the consequences, weigh her options and devise the most logical scenario to work this situation in her favor.
Then his tongue swept over her lower lip, and she was done. She simply couldn’t think. And she didn’t care that her brain wouldn’t function. Not while she was reveling in her lusty puddle.
When he lifted his head to stare into her eyes with that midnight gaze of his, she was ready. The agreement was poised on the tip of her tongue, just waiting for the question.
“Would you like to take a walk?”
Not her hotel room? Darby’s tongue almost tripped over itself adjusting.
“A what?”
“Walk.” He tilted his head toward the spiral staircase. “On the beach.”
Was his bed on the beach? Because hers was only two floors up. Before she could point that out, he shifted away. Stepped back. Gave her space, she realized. Space and plenty of time to decide what she wanted. Something Paul had never liked, probably because what she wanted rarely coincided with what he wanted.
But Dominic seemed perfectly content to let her decide.
So she considered the options.
Upstairs, where they could immediately quench the heat stirring and blowing through her. Or a walk on the beach, letting the heat build, hotter and stronger.
She wanted him. Wanted to see if the feelings he stirred were just a tease, a fluke, or the simple result of celibacy.
But he wanted to walk on the beach.
Before the bitter taste of insult could overwhelm the delicious flavor of his kiss, she looked into his eyes again. And realized this wasn’t disinterest. Oh, he was plenty interested and not hesitant to let it show.
He was simply being a gentleman.
God, that was sweet.
But she wanted sex, not sweetness. And the sooner they found privacy, aka her hotel room, the sooner she figured she’d get him naked.
Then he smiled. A flash of white against dusky cheeks.
And her heart yearned.
“I’d like to walk,” she heard herself say.
“Perfect.” Still holding her hand, he lifted it to his mouth, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles before leading her toward the spiral staircase. She saw him signal to the waiter, settling the dinner bill with a simple head tilt and nod.
Why that should be almost as sexy as kissing her hand, she couldn’t say. But it got her even hotter.
They silently walked hand in hand down the shell-encrusted path bisecting the sand. To the left was a row of bungalows, each one set farther away from each other than the last. To the right was the ocean, the waves dancing in time to the beat of the band’s cover of Poison’s “Something to Believe In.”
He bypassed the as-advertised crowded lanai filled with celebratory sounds and gyrating dancers. The path he chose was well lit, with tall tiki torches spearing from the ground every ten feet and strings of twinkling fairy lights strung between. The juxtaposition of the primitive and the whimsical only added to the fantasy feel.
About halfway down the beach, far enough that the resort crowd was shadowed specks, he stopped.
Stepping off the path, he pulled her into his arms. His gaze held hers as he lowered his mouth, the kiss a soft whisper that filled her with a heady need even as it asked, and waited.
Still the gentleman, she realized.
She bit his lower lip, sucking the flesh between her teeth to lave it with her tongue.
He gave a low growl of approval and, obviously reading her answer correctly, took the kiss from sweet to incendiary. Tongues thrusted, teeth scraped, lips melded in a hot dance of intense pleasure.
She skimmed her hand under the hem of his T-shirt, her palm smoothing the hot planes of his abs. The rock-hard muscles were a vivid contrast against the soft fabric of his shirt as her fingers climbed higher, smoothing and circling their way up to his chest.
God.
There had to be another exclamation that would do justice to his awesomeness. But she couldn’t think of it. Bottom line, the man had the body of a god.
“I have to say, this fantasy is even better than I’d expected.”
“Darling, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Dominic promised.
That cocky assurance was almost as much a turn-on as the feel of his bare chest beneath her fingers. She shivered a little as desire grabbed hard and strong.
He untied the straps of her dress, stepping back so the fabric fell, unimpeded, to her waist. Darby stood in the moonlight, shoulders, back and chest bare, as turned on by the look on his face as she’d ever been by anything else in her life.
His eyes caressed, his expression admired.
Then he touched.
And she damn near came.
His fingers swirled, skimmed, teased her nipples into new heights of aching pleasure. She dug her hands into his shoulders, wanting more, needing everything.
“Privacy?”
“That’s my bungalow,” he murmured. His mouth slid soft kisses over the aching curve of her breast.
“Inside?”
“I will be.”
Darby’s laugh was a breathless puff of air.
The logical, analytical, cautious voice in her head that was usually in charge of her every choice screamed at her to stop. This was insane. She didn’t even know the guy’s last name, had met him less than four hours ago, and was getting naked on the beach when there were perfectly private walls to get naked behind only a few feet away.
She needed to stop.
She gasped when his fingers skimmed inside the elastic band of her thong, sliding over the throbbing wet heat between her legs.
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