"Well, if you're going to be a baby about it." She leaned in, intending to give that beautiful mouth a light brush. Friendly, casual. She gave it a little peck, and tried to ignore the stirring in her belly.
He didn't draw her closer, didn't try to lengthen the kiss, but only held her where she was, kept his eyes on hers. "Still hurts," he told her. "Can I have another?"
Alarm bells were ringing, but she ignored them. "I guess."
She touched her lips to his again. So warm, so firm.
With a little sound in her throat, she gave in to that stirring and traced those lips with her tongue, combed her fingers through his hair.
Still he waited. She could feel the tension toughen his body, she could hear his breath draw in. But he waited.
So she wrapped her arms around him and let herself sink into that warmth, that firmness, that slow and steady seduction.
It felt so good to ride that long, liquid wave, with all those tastes and textures. The shape of his mouth, the sensation of tongue sliding over tongue, the press of body to body.
So many things inside her that she'd ruthlessly shut down began to churn into hot life again.
"Oh, God." She moaned it, and all but slathered herself against him.
He'd have sworn he felt the ground begin to quake under his feet. He was damn sure the world took a hard tilt that left him reeling. Her mouth had gone from light and sweet to hot and greedy, in one lurching beat of the heart.
Desperate for more, he changed the angle of the kiss, then nipped restlessly at her bottom lip just to hear her low, throaty moan.
When he ran his hands up her body, she stretched under them like a woman waking from a long sleep.
Then jerked back, stared with shocked eyes toward the doorway. "Simon," she managed, and brushed at her hair. She took another quick step back just as Simon and Moe bounced into the room.
The boy was wearing X-Men pajamas, Brad saw. And smelled of toothpaste.
"All set?" Zoe gave her son a bright smile. The blood was still roaring in her head. "Mister, ah, Brad and I were just going to have coffee."
"Yuck." Simon walked to Zoe and tipped his head up for a kiss good night.
"I'll be in, in just a little while."
"Okay. 'Night," he said to Brad. "We're going to have a rematch, right?"
"You bet. Hold on a minute, will you? I want your opinion on something."
Before Zoe realized his intent, Brad pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was a restrained kiss, comparatively, and she froze like a statue, but it was still a kiss.
Then he eased back, keeping one arm firm around her waist while he raised an eyebrow at Simon. "So?"
The boy's eyes were long like his mother's, tawny like his mother's, and held a world of speculation. After a long five seconds, he crossed those eyes, poked a finger in his mouth, and made gagging noises.
"Uh-huh," Brad said. "Other than the gag reflex, do you have any problem with me kissing your mother?"
"Not if you guys want to do something that gross. Chuck says his brother Nate likes to stick his tongue in girls' mouths. That just can not be true. Can it?"
With what he considered heroic control, Brad kept his face very sober. "It takes all kinds."
"I guess. I'm going to take Moe into my room so he doesn't have to watch if you guys are going to do something gross again."
"See you, kid." As Simon and Moe padded off, Brad turned and grinned at Zoe. "Want to do something gross?"
"I think we'll just have coffee."
Chapter Six