pettiness, he’d discovered, was a poison. So he’d kept that information to himself.
“This is literally the comfiest T-shirt I have ever worn,” Bailey announced as she returned from the bathroom, her clothing folded into a neat pile in her hands.
The cotton draped over her, covering the tops of her thighs and flowing freely over her body. It shifted as she walked, her breasts bouncing and the points of her nipples pressing against the fabric in the most enticing way.
His mouth ran dry as she bent forward slightly, placing the pile of clothes down on the brightly patterned armchair, causing the fabric to ride up the backs of her thighs. Any farther and he’d get a peek at the cotton of her panties…if she was wearing any, that was.
Lust slammed into him and he shifted to try and hide the effect she had on him.
“And I’m not one of those people who uses literally when they mean figuratively,” she added.
“I’m sure you use the correct word at all times.” His lip twitched but he managed to keep a straight face.
“Oh, I try to. Grammar is very important and not enough people take care with it.” She paused. “Hang on; you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Me, never.” He put a hand to his chest in mock sincerity. “I’m a total gentleman.”
The fine arch of her brows said it all. “Riiiight.”
“You wound me.”
She laughed. “Want me to kiss it better?”
It was a saying, a colloquialism…he knew that. But those six little words managed to suck all the air out of his lungs and disconnect his body from his brain. He stepped forward and her breath hitched. The blacks of her pupils ate away at the electric rim of blue around them.
“What did you say, Bailey?” His voice came out roughhewn. Edgy.
“I just meant…” She sucked in a breath and mashed her lips together.
Desperate desire rushed through him. He wanted to press his lips to her throat and see if her pulse was racing the same as his. What would it be like to drag his lips across her skin? Would she taste as clean and fresh as she smelled?
“It was a joke,” she whispered. Her tongue darted out to touch the corner of her mouth and that flash of pink totally undid him. “I think.”
The space shrunk between them as he closed in. “You think?”
“I don’t know.” She stood rooted to the ground. “What if it wasn’t?”
“Are you saying you want to kiss me, Bailey?”
Her lips parted as if in invitation and her hands came up to his chest automatically. The soft, feathery touch of her fingers through his T-shirt stoked the fire inside him. She moved her hands over his pecs and up to his shoulders. The movement was gentle, but passion flickered across her face like a flame.
“I’m still deciding.” She pressed her sweet little body against him, her bare thighs lining up with his.
The delicate swirl of her hips forced his blood south. He was hard as fucking steel. “You’re still deciding?”
“Well, I don’t usually kiss random men. Actually, I’ve never been one to kiss much and there’s a chance I may not be good at it.” Her brows creased but her hands fisted into the cotton of his T-shirt. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“You’re giving me some very mixed signals right now.” His face hovered inches from hers, their breath mingling in the air between them.
“I want to kiss you, but…” Her lips quivered. “I’m scared.”
“Why don’t we take it slow?” Lance brushed his mouth over hers. It was more a whisper than a kiss. “Glacial, even.”
“Glacial,” she sighed as he slid his hands up the back of her neck to cradle her head. “I like that.”
His thumbs stroked her ears as he kissed one corner of her mouth and then the other. Slow. Soft. Her fresh scent curled around him.
“That feels good,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut.
He traced his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she opened for him, her lips glistening and shiny like ripe fruit.
“This is literally the comfiest T-shirt I have ever worn,” Bailey announced as she returned from the bathroom, her clothing folded into a neat pile in her hands.
The cotton draped over her, covering the tops of her thighs and flowing freely over her body. It shifted as she walked, her breasts bouncing and the points of her nipples pressing against the fabric in the most enticing way.
His mouth ran dry as she bent forward slightly, placing the pile of clothes down on the brightly patterned armchair, causing the fabric to ride up the backs of her thighs. Any farther and he’d get a peek at the cotton of her panties…if she was wearing any, that was.
Lust slammed into him and he shifted to try and hide the effect she had on him.
“And I’m not one of those people who uses literally when they mean figuratively,” she added.
“I’m sure you use the correct word at all times.” His lip twitched but he managed to keep a straight face.
“Oh, I try to. Grammar is very important and not enough people take care with it.” She paused. “Hang on; you’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Me, never.” He put a hand to his chest in mock sincerity. “I’m a total gentleman.”
The fine arch of her brows said it all. “Riiiight.”
“You wound me.”
She laughed. “Want me to kiss it better?”
It was a saying, a colloquialism…he knew that. But those six little words managed to suck all the air out of his lungs and disconnect his body from his brain. He stepped forward and her breath hitched. The blacks of her pupils ate away at the electric rim of blue around them.
“What did you say, Bailey?” His voice came out roughhewn. Edgy.
“I just meant…” She sucked in a breath and mashed her lips together.
Desperate desire rushed through him. He wanted to press his lips to her throat and see if her pulse was racing the same as his. What would it be like to drag his lips across her skin? Would she taste as clean and fresh as she smelled?
“It was a joke,” she whispered. Her tongue darted out to touch the corner of her mouth and that flash of pink totally undid him. “I think.”
The space shrunk between them as he closed in. “You think?”
“I don’t know.” She stood rooted to the ground. “What if it wasn’t?”
“Are you saying you want to kiss me, Bailey?”
Her lips parted as if in invitation and her hands came up to his chest automatically. The soft, feathery touch of her fingers through his T-shirt stoked the fire inside him. She moved her hands over his pecs and up to his shoulders. The movement was gentle, but passion flickered across her face like a flame.
“I’m still deciding.” She pressed her sweet little body against him, her bare thighs lining up with his.
The delicate swirl of her hips forced his blood south. He was hard as fucking steel. “You’re still deciding?”
“Well, I don’t usually kiss random men. Actually, I’ve never been one to kiss much and there’s a chance I may not be good at it.” Her brows creased but her hands fisted into the cotton of his T-shirt. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“You’re giving me some very mixed signals right now.” His face hovered inches from hers, their breath mingling in the air between them.
“I want to kiss you, but…” Her lips quivered. “I’m scared.”
“Why don’t we take it slow?” Lance brushed his mouth over hers. It was more a whisper than a kiss. “Glacial, even.”
“Glacial,” she sighed as he slid his hands up the back of her neck to cradle her head. “I like that.”
His thumbs stroked her ears as he kissed one corner of her mouth and then the other. Slow. Soft. Her fresh scent curled around him.
“That feels good,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut.
He traced his tongue along the seam of her mouth and she opened for him, her lips glistening and shiny like ripe fruit.
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