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God, his tongue was slow against hers. A slow, steady stroke that sent a wave of shivery pleasure through her body. Her nipples went tight. Her fingers pressed harder into his chest. There was barely any give to him at all. He was...hard.

She made a noise in her throat at the thought, some instinctive sound of satisfied surprise.

Gabe slowed the kiss, ended it, lifted his mouth from hers. She wanted to pull him back down. She wanted more.

His teeth flashed in a smile. “I thought it’d be good to see if we had chemistry.”

She stared at his mouth, willing it to come closer again. “And?”

“And if you’re not sure, I should check again.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Good idea,” he whispered just before his lips fell to hers.

Their mouths were more urgent this time. Or maybe it was only her quickening the pace, because she slid a hand into the soft waves of his hair and urged him closer.

His hands moved from her shoulders to her back, and Veronica wished he were touching bare skin. She wished he’d slip his hands beneath the hem of her shirt. She wanted to feel the edges of his rough fingers on her naked back, and she wanted—needed—him to feel her heat. God, that would be so good. She pressed even closer to him, and his fingers dug faintly into her back as if he wanted her closer, too.

Triumph fizzed into her veins when he groaned into her mouth. To make a man like this groan. To make him desperate...

But then he pulled away. “Oh,” she breathed on a sigh of disappointment.

He shook his head. “I’ve gotta go before I lose all my willpower.”

“Oh,” she repeated, slightly dazed. Willpower to resist her? “Okay. Wow. You’re way better at that than any of those New York guys.”

His laugh was a little strained as his hands finally slid free of her waist and he stepped back. “I’m pretty damn happy to hear that. I guess that means the chemistry is okay.”

“It’s all right, but we should probably try again soon to be sure.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” she repeated.

“I get off work at six. Are there any trails we could hit with just an hour or two of daylight?”

“Trails?” she said, aware that her brain wasn’t quite back to working order.

“I thought we could go for a hike.”

She stared at him for a long moment before a sweet happiness filled her up inside. He didn’t want to go to an art show or an avant-garde movie or a noisy bar. He wanted to take her hiking. “That’d be great,” she said. “There’s a trail that starts a few blocks away.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She reached behind her and twisted the doorknob before she could say anything weird, then let her body weight swing the door in. She closed and locked it in the same slow state. Her body felt heavy. Pulled down. It made her want to kick off all her clothes and slide into bed. Was that how so many women ended up accidentally sleeping with men they hadn’t meant to? A lazy, languid slide into bed from the sheer weight of arousal?

“Wow,” she breathed. She was going to have sex. Real sex. With him.

Well, she assumed she was. She wanted to. And he seemed...favorably inclined.

Veronica stayed pressed against the door for quite a long time, imagining that mouth on hers again. And then she imagined that mouth moving lower. Down her neck, over her shoulder and then lower to her breasts. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe slowly, but the thought of that slow tongue on her nipples made her pant. And then...

And then.

She tossed her keys on the table and slipped off the flip-flops, smiling stupidly down at her blue toenails. She went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water to take to bed, but she found herself standing in front of the fridge, staring at the notes.

#1—Let people see the real you.


Tags: Victoria Dahl Jackson: Girls' Night Out Romance