Her frown deepened, and then with a smile, she closed her door and took the three steps separating them. “Yes, I do. And considering the second time we met, I think I’m allowed to say that’s surprising.”
A thick pressure wrapped around his chest. She was making light of the way he’d treated her—the revenge-driven, alpha-male, lust-mad treatment from a caveman in a suit. Would he be so forgiving if the situation were reversed?
He didn’t want to contemplate an answer. He wouldn’t like it.
She smiled up at him, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. “C’mon, Mr. Dyson. I’m ready for the payoff.”
She turned on her bare heel and, shoes swinging beside her thigh, walked toward his home.
The gentle, unaffected sway of her hips undid him. Turned him inside out. He’d never wanted a woman so much as he wanted her, and yet, with every second in her company, a simple truth struck him: it was much more than base lust and manipulative desire.
So much more.
…
James’s home didn’t require an actual key to enter. He punched in a series of numbers on a keypad next to the front door before turning the brushed-steel doorknob and pushing the door wide. “Mia casa.” He waved his arm through the opening.
She couldn’t stop her smile. Who was this man before her? Not the James she’d met on the steps of the St. Paul Cathedral. Nor the same man who’d appeared on her doorstep only a few days ago. This man was funny, relaxed, friendly, approachable, and…and…
Her heart quickened. “Perfect.”
His nostrils flared. His stare held hers. “I couldn’t have said it better.”
He snaked his arm around her waist, pulled her to his body with a gentle tug, and claimed her lips with his.
She didn’t resist. What was the point anymore? They’d played their games. They’d battled their desire. Now all that remained was pleasure. Pleasure absolute.
He walked her backward into his home, slanting his lips over hers, delving his tongue into her mouth. He smoothed his hands up her throat to cup her jaw, resting his fingertips on her cheeks. He stopped walking long enough to kick the door shut behind him before moving deeper into the foyer.
The marble floor chilled her bare feet, icy against her soles. The contrast to the heat of his lips and hands sent a ripple of delight through her. She whimpered into his mouth, her backward steps as he directed her into his home trusting.
When the marble beneath her feet became soft carpet, she broke the kiss, her breath ragged.
He gazed down at her, his eyes ablaze. “Too much?”
“Not enough.” Her heart hammered in her throat. “I just need to…draw a breath before I do this.”
She tossed her stilettos onto the closest chair—a pale-gray leather sofa—and then pressed against him, sliding her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and into his hair. “And this.” She pulled his head down to hers to kiss him.
He groaned into her mouth, fisting his hands in the fabric at the small of her back to haul her harder to his body. His teeth nipped at her bottom lip, drawing its fullness into his mouth. He sucked, the gentle pressure flooding her with wicked pleasure. She pressed her hips forward, wanting to feel his arousal grinding to her belly.
James growled his approval, his mouth travelling her jaw, up to her ear as he dragged his hands down her back to her hips. “Don’t do that, Si.” His hot breath fanned her ear. “Not unless you plan on ending up naked in my—”
She rolled her hips again.
With a groan, he snared the high hem of her dress and pulled it up over her body.
The room’s cool air kissed her bare skin. Her nipples pinched into pebbled tips. She stood motionless as he took a step back and roamed his gaze over her body. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes lingering for a heartbeat on the dusky points of her breasts, the tiny triangle of her delicate black lace G-string.
“Christ.” His nostrils flared. “You are even more beautiful than I…”
He didn’t finish. Instead, he closed the distance between them and framed her face in his palms. Her breath hitched as he smoothed one hand down her throat to cup her breast. Her nipple beaded against his firm touch and he dragged his thumb over the puckered point of flesh.