“You like to play your cards close to the chest, don’t you?”
Dean took hold of her arms and pulled her close, close enough to smell her pretty, floral scent, but not so close he lost all control. “You have a little chocolate on you,” Dean murmured as he tipped her chin up and kissed her. Catherine went rigid. He angled his head and let his tongue dart out to touch one corner of her mouth. When she relaxed against him, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, chocolate was all but forgotten. And so was his control. All Dean wanted to do was devour her. Inch by inch.
His tongue touched the side of her mouth and licked slowly back and forth. He tasted the chocolate, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted a deeper taste. He wanted the flavor of Catherine in his mouth. Something to tide him over until he could see her again. He tugged until their bodies were aligned. Her soft curves fit him perfectly, and Dean took a moment to relish the fact. Naked, they should definitely be naked. He ached to feel her silken skin against him.
When he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and gently nipped, Catherine gasped. Dean took the advantage and delved inside the dark recesses of her mouth. She moaned and dug her fingers into his hair. Her tongue shyly explored his, teasing him with the possibility of more. When his hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks, she pressed her lower body into his. Dean knew she’d feel the heavy weight of his cock. He felt the instant Catherine came back to reality. Her body stiffened and she dropped her hands away. Dean pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns.
“It’s gone,” he said by way of explanation, as his gaze went to her swollen lips.
“Huh?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
He smiled. “The chocolate.”
“Uh, right.” She licked her lips, then added, “A napkin would’ve worked too.”
He tsked. “You’d want me to waste perfectly good chocolate?”
She shook her head. “You’re determined to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, Dean pointed to the stove. “Are you going to be late?”
Catherine’s gaze shot to the green readout. “Crap.” She sprinted out of the room and grabbed her purse. As she took hold of the doorknob, she stopped and looked back at him. “Thanks for . . . lunch.”
He grinned and leaned against the wall. “It was my pleasure, believe me.”
The last thing Dean saw before she rushed out the door was the alluring shade of pink in her cheeks. “That woman is going to be bad for my health,” he muttered.
7
“H e kissed you?” Gracie asked as she skimmed a rack of dresses.
The store Gracie had taken her to was small but had a large variety of party dresses and eveningwear. Catherine stared at a display of skirts, but all she saw was Dean. The heat in his gaze as he stared down at her after the kiss. Her body temperature spiked all over again. “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “One minute he’s telling me he doesn’t trust me, like I have some diabolical plan in mind for you, then he’s kissing me. The man is beyond annoying.”
Gracie stopped and frowned over at her. “But he really kissed you?”
“See?” Catherine threw her hands in the air. “You’re as baffled as I am.”
She shook her head. “Well, I suppose the trip was a success to some degree, then. I mean, clearly he must not hate you the way you suspected or he never would’ve kissed you.”
“No, he doesn’t hate me.” She snorted. “He just doesn’t trust me.”
Gracie pushed her purse higher on her shoulder. “But if that’s true, then why’d he kiss you?”
“Because I had chocolate on my mouth, he said.” Catherine’s gaze caught a dress on the rack Gracie was picking through. She picked it up and looked at the tag. “Damn, wrong size.”
“Uh-huh. And he’s coming to the club tonight.”
“He said he might come. I doubt that he’ll show up though.
Dean took hold of her arms and pulled her close, close enough to smell her pretty, floral scent, but not so close he lost all control. “You have a little chocolate on you,” Dean murmured as he tipped her chin up and kissed her. Catherine went rigid. He angled his head and let his tongue dart out to touch one corner of her mouth. When she relaxed against him, her arms moving to wrap around his neck, chocolate was all but forgotten. And so was his control. All Dean wanted to do was devour her. Inch by inch.
His tongue touched the side of her mouth and licked slowly back and forth. He tasted the chocolate, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted a deeper taste. He wanted the flavor of Catherine in his mouth. Something to tide him over until he could see her again. He tugged until their bodies were aligned. Her soft curves fit him perfectly, and Dean took a moment to relish the fact. Naked, they should definitely be naked. He ached to feel her silken skin against him.
When he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and gently nipped, Catherine gasped. Dean took the advantage and delved inside the dark recesses of her mouth. She moaned and dug her fingers into his hair. Her tongue shyly explored his, teasing him with the possibility of more. When his hands cupped and squeezed her buttocks, she pressed her lower body into his. Dean knew she’d feel the heavy weight of his cock. He felt the instant Catherine came back to reality. Her body stiffened and she dropped her hands away. Dean pulled back and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him as if he’d sprouted horns.
“It’s gone,” he said by way of explanation, as his gaze went to her swollen lips.
“Huh?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
He smiled. “The chocolate.”
“Uh, right.” She licked her lips, then added, “A napkin would’ve worked too.”
He tsked. “You’d want me to waste perfectly good chocolate?”
She shook her head. “You’re determined to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
Instead of answering, Dean pointed to the stove. “Are you going to be late?”
Catherine’s gaze shot to the green readout. “Crap.” She sprinted out of the room and grabbed her purse. As she took hold of the doorknob, she stopped and looked back at him. “Thanks for . . . lunch.”
He grinned and leaned against the wall. “It was my pleasure, believe me.”
The last thing Dean saw before she rushed out the door was the alluring shade of pink in her cheeks. “That woman is going to be bad for my health,” he muttered.
7
“H e kissed you?” Gracie asked as she skimmed a rack of dresses.
The store Gracie had taken her to was small but had a large variety of party dresses and eveningwear. Catherine stared at a display of skirts, but all she saw was Dean. The heat in his gaze as he stared down at her after the kiss. Her body temperature spiked all over again. “I don’t get it,” she admitted. “One minute he’s telling me he doesn’t trust me, like I have some diabolical plan in mind for you, then he’s kissing me. The man is beyond annoying.”
Gracie stopped and frowned over at her. “But he really kissed you?”
“See?” Catherine threw her hands in the air. “You’re as baffled as I am.”
She shook her head. “Well, I suppose the trip was a success to some degree, then. I mean, clearly he must not hate you the way you suspected or he never would’ve kissed you.”
“No, he doesn’t hate me.” She snorted. “He just doesn’t trust me.”
Gracie pushed her purse higher on her shoulder. “But if that’s true, then why’d he kiss you?”
“Because I had chocolate on my mouth, he said.” Catherine’s gaze caught a dress on the rack Gracie was picking through. She picked it up and looked at the tag. “Damn, wrong size.”
“Uh-huh. And he’s coming to the club tonight.”
“He said he might come. I doubt that he’ll show up though.
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