One Perfect Night by Bella Andre

on the ski slopes when he’d caught her as they fell and he’d held her against him to keep her safe. Noah wasn’t an ass man. He wasn’t a breast man. He wasn’t a leg man.
    He was an everything man.
    With lips and hands, he caressed every inch of her skin as he continued to undress her, sliding the zipper of her skirt down so that it, too, could drop onto his bedroom floor with her blouse.
    "You look like an angel," he said when she stood before him in nothing but the sexiest lingerie he’d ever seen. "A naughty angel."
    "I was wearing the same thing when we were making snow angels," she told him, "underneath my ski clothes."
    "If I had known that—" He took her all the way to the bed and laid her on it, her hair spread out across the pillow, her body lush, her skin soft, his every dream come true. "—I wouldn’t have let you go."

    * * *

    Colbie knew her body wasn’t perfect. Her hips were a little too big. Her legs would never be long and lean like a model’s. But she also knew how responsive she was to touch.
    And she knew how much desire there was in Noah’s eyes whenever he looked at her. Lust flared so powerfully from him that heat flowed all across her skin.
    From that first moment up on the snowy mountain, he’d looked at her like that. Whether she was covered in a down jacket or was naked except for her panties and heels, he desired her.
    And for the first time in her life, she felt absolutely perfect. As beautiful as he’d—repeatedly—told her she was.
    She didn’t know how long he simply stared before he finally put his hands on her. All she knew was that it was too long. But whatever she’d expected from him, it wasn’t this slow movement of his hands over her face, his fingertips caressing the curve of her eyebrows, the arch of her cheekbones, the thrust of her chin. And then down her neck to the curve of her shoulders, the soft edges of her breasts, the bones of her rib cage, until he reached the soft swell of her stomach and hips.
    She tried to keep her eyes open, tried to hold onto rational thought, but oh, it felt so good, and ultimately she had no choice but to sink into the pleasure of his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she drank in the shocking sweetness of his hands on her. Slowly, he ran his hands down her thighs, skirting past the extremely sensitive skin at the backs of her knees, to press his fingertips into her calves so perfectly that she groaned aloud at the pleasure of his touch. He slipped off her heels and when her feet were bare, he stroked them, too, with the pads of his thumbs, as if he wanted to give every part of her pleasure, leaving nothing out. And then, finally, he drew her panties from her body, too.
    "Beautiful." The one word from Noah’s lips was more of a caress than any other’s man’s touch. "So beautiful."
    She opened her eyes just in time to see him lick his lips at the sight of her sex, slick and wet and completely bared to his gaze...and she finally realized he still had all of his clothes on. Immediately, she reached for his jacket and slid it from his broad shoulders.
    She could feel the heat of him, the barely leashed strength beneath the pressed dress shirt, as her hand moved to the buttons that ran down his chest. She wanted him naked, wanted to see all that power without anything covering it up. He could take off his clothes much faster than she could do it for him, but there was something so sensually satisfying about her being the one to uncover him, about being able to run her fingertips over his skin, his bones, his muscles, the dark hairs on his chest that curled against her knuckles as she undid one button and then another.
    But when she finally had his shirt pulled out of his pants and all the way open, she had to stop...and stare.
    Only, looking wasn’t enough. Touching wasn’t enough, either.
    She needed to taste him, too.
    She leaned up and put her mouth over his collarbone. It was natural—so perfectly instinctive—to slide