Christmas Kisses Collection. Louise Allen

toyed over the barely-there satin material.

      “Might be time to turn that seater off since you’re already steamy down there.”

      She tilted her hips toward his touch. “Might be, but I’m sure I could get hotter.”

      “You think?”

      “I’m hoping.”

      He slowed the car and turned into her street. “Thank God we’re almost there.”

      “Not even close,” she teased. “But if you move those fingers just so, maybe.”

      “McKenzie.” Her name was torn from deep within him. “You’re killing me.”

      His fingers said otherwise. His fingers were little adventurers, exploring uncharted territory, staking claims in the wake of his touch.

      She closed her eyes, holding on to his thigh, spreading her legs to give him better access. Gentle back-and-forth movements created cataclysmic earthquakes throughout her body.

      Yearnings to rip off her clothes hit her. To rip off his clothes, right then, in the car, to give him free access to touch with no material in the way.

      Why couldn’t she?

      Why couldn’t she take her panties off?

      That wasn’t something she’d ever done before, but she was an adult, a responsible one usually. If she wanted to suddenly go commando, she could do that, right?

      She hiked her dress up around her thighs, looped her fingers through the tiny straps of her thong and wiggled them down her legs. She probably looked ridiculous raised up off the seat to remove them, but who cared?

      His eyes were on the road and now there was nothing to keep him from touching her. Not her panties, but her, as in skin to skin. She needed that. His skin against hers. His touch on her aching flesh.

      “If I were a stronger man, I’d make you wait until we’re at least in your driveway before I touched you for real,” he warned.

      “Good thing you’re not a stronger man,” she replied as his fingers slid home. “Very good thing.”

      His touch was light, just gentle strokes teasing her.

      “This isn’t fair,” he complained.

      “Life isn’t fair. Get over it.”

      He laughed. “No sympathy from you.”

      “Hey, you’ve been trying to get in my pants for weeks now. Why would I feel sympathetic toward you when you’re getting what you want?”

      “I want more than to get into your pants, McKenzie. I want a relationship with you.”

      “Here’s a news flash for you—if you’re in my pants, you’re in a relationship with me.”

      “For thirty days or less?” he asked.

      “I’m not putting a time limit on our relationship. Move your fingers faster.”

      “Not until you promise you’ll give me two months.”

      Two months? Why two months?

      “This isn’t as business negotiation.”

      “True,” he agreed. “But if you want my fingers to do more than skim the surface, you’ll give me your word. I want two months. Not a day less. Not a day more.”

      She moved against him, trying to get the friction she craved. “Two months?”

      “Two months.”

      Ugh. He was pushing for more than she usually gave. It figured. Then again, what was two months in the grand scheme of life?

      “I don’t have to agree to this to get what I want. It’s not as if you’re going to turn down what I’m offering.”

      He chuckled. “Confident, aren’t you?”

      “Of that? Yes, you’re a man.”

      “I won’t be used for sex, McKenzie.”

      “Isn’t that usually the woman’s line?”

      “These are modern times and you’re a modern woman.”

      She arched further against his hand. “Not that modern.”

      “Two months?” He teased her most sensitive area with the slightest flick of his finger.

      “Fine,” she sighed, moving against his fingers. “You can have two months, but I won’t promise a day more.”

      He turned into her driveway, amazing since she hadn’t even realized they were that close to her house. Hadn’t even recalled that they were in her street or even on the planet, for that matter. All that existed was the two of them inside his car.

      He killed the engine, turned toward her, and moved her thighs apart, touching where she ached.

      “I knew you could find it if you tried hard enough,” she teased breathlessly.

      “Oh, I’m definitely hard enough.”

      She reached out and touched him again. He was right. He definitely was.

      Lance leaned toward her, taking her mouth as his fingers worked magic. Sparkles and rainbows and shooting-stars magic.

      Her inner thighs clenched. Her eyes squeezed tight then opened wide.

      Her body melted in all the right places in a powerful orgasmic wave that turned her body inside out. Or it felt like it at any rate.

      Sucking in much-needed oxygen, she met his smug gaze.

      Two months might not be nearly enough time if that was a preview of the main event.

      Bodies tangled, Lance and McKenzie tossed a half dozen pillows off her bed and onto the floor with their free hands. A trail of clothes marked their path from the front door to her bed. His. Hers.

      “I want you, McKenzie,” he breathed, his hand at the base of her neck as his mouth took hers again. Long and hard, he kissed her.

      McKenzie was positive she’d never been kissed so possessively, never been kissed so completely.

      Even when his mouth lifted from hers, she didn’t answer him verbally. She wasn’t sure her vocal cords would even work if she tried.

      Her hands worked, though. As did her lips. She touched Lance and kissed him, exploring the strong lines of his neck, his shoulders, his chest.

      “So beautiful.”

      Had she said that or had he? She wasn’t sure.

      His hands were on her breasts, cupping her bottom, everywhere, and yet not nearly all the places she wanted to be touched.

      “More,” she cried, desperation filling her when it was him she wanted, him she needed. “Please. Now, Lance. I want you now.”

      Maybe her desperation was evident in her tone or maybe he was just as desperate because he pushed her back onto the bed, put on the condom he’d tossed onto the nightstand when they’d first entered the room, then crawled above her.

      With his knee he spread her legs, positioned himself above her. “You’re sure?”

      What was he waiting for?

      She arched her hips, taking him inside, then moaned at the sweet stretching pleasure.

      That was what she had been wanting for a very long time.

      Breathing hard, Lance fell back against the bed.

      She’d been amazing.