Venus in Blue Jeans (41 page)
She released a long, measured exhale. What would it feel like when he did touch her? If he was to shift those strong fingers down instead of up, slipping beneath the waistband of her slacks? The pulse at the apex of her thighs throbbed and she pressed her legs together.
The movement brought her bottom into closer contact with his groin. He jerked, a sudden stillness an indication he was awake now. On her ribcage, his fingers tightened and relaxed but didn’t move. He kissed her shoulder, a soft murmur on her skin. “You awake?”
Awake? Her entire body vibrated with awareness of him. All vestiges of sleep had evaporated. “Yes.”
He traced the line of one rib with his thumb. “Feel better?”
“I guess.” She lifted her shoulder in a small shrug, his lips touching her again.
He kissed the side of her neck. “I could get used to waking up with you.”
“Me too.” The rigid line of his arousal still lay between them and curiosity got the better of her. She covered his wrist with her fingers. “Do you always wake up like this?”
“Hard? Not always, no.” His quiet words sent heat rushing over her skin. “I was dreaming about you.”
Her breath caught. His drowsy voice had dropped with the admission. Could men purr? No, not a purr. More of a throaty, husky growl. He’d dreamed of her. The achy pulsing spread.
“Tell me about your dream,” she whispered.
“We were together, like this.” He shifted closer, mouth near her ear. “Only without so many clothes. You let me touch you.”
She burned, fire licking through her veins. “How?” She swallowed, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. “I mean, how did you touch me?”
With his lips, he traced the curve of her ear. “We were lying together like this and I slid my hands up. Your breasts filled my palms. Your skin was so hot, honey. Hot and smooth, except around your nipples. They were hard and you wanted my mouth on them. You let me taste you.”
The pictures he painted flickered in her mind. She wanted to take his wrists, pull his hands up, let him do the things he described. Only the fact she wasn’t the woman in his dream, not really, stopped her. That woman was his fantasy. The reality would be her freezing in fear somewhere along the way.
The first step in conquering the fear was facing it. She stroked his arm. Under her touch, his skin was warm, sprinkled with dark, coarse hair. She swallowed. “Is that all?”
He nuzzled her neck. “Not by a long shot. You touched me, your nails on my back, my shoulders. I slid my hands down, over that flat stomach of yours. I could feel the muscles trembling. I was still kissing your breasts, licking and sucking, and you were holding my head there, your nails scratching me a little. I couldn’t get enough of you.”
Even with the fear, the beat of attraction between her legs grew stronger. She resisted the urge to squirm. The edge of his hand brushed the underside of her breast.
“You opened your thighs to me.” His dark voice wrapped around her, doing wicked things to her senses. “I stroked you and slipped a finger inside, then another.” He tilted his pelvis, the solid ridge of his erection nudging her. His groan shivered over her ear. “Honey, you were so
hot
. Wet. Tight. You moaned. My name, over and over. I loved that, loved knowing I could make you feel like that.”
She wanted to roll over, to beg him to make the fantasy come true. She wanted to believe it could. His nose brushed her cheek and he feathered his palm across her stomach.
“I wanted to be inside you so bad, Tor, and you wanted it too. I wanted us moving together, until you came all over me. Until I was coming inside you.”
“Is that what it would be like?” Her voice emerged shaky and broken. “If we made love?”
He rubbed his face against her shoulder. “Oh honey, I think we’d be better.”
She turned her head to look at him. His eyes had gone a burning, smoky gray. “I want to,” she whispered. “But I’m frightened. I don’t know—”
“Shh.” Leaning in, he kissed her, his mouth firm and warm on hers. He framed her face. “We’re not going to do anything until you’re ready.”
He kissed her again, nibbling and teasing at her lips. Tori shifted to her back, holding his jaw with trembling fingers. Levering up on an elbow, he massaged a hand down her bare arm and she shivered.
His tongue probed at her mouth in a teasing flickering before he brushed a more sedate caress across her bottom lip. “Open your mouth, Tori.”
The rough whisper set her nerves on fire. Gripping his shoulders, she opened to him. He slanted his lips over hers, tongue meeting hers in short, easy thrusts. She moaned, the restless wanting alive once more.
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