“Sure.”
“Bring it here. I’ll see what I can do.”
Within seconds, he was loping down the staircase with a speed that would have made her dizzy. “We’re in luck. There’s some blue thread in here,” he said, extracting from the sewing kit a card with several colors of thread wound around it. A slender sewing needle was secured in the cardboard.
She took the sewing implements from him, thankful for something to do so she wouldn’t have to look at him. He had left the shirt unbuttoned, and a close-up view of that wonderfully masculine chest was more disturbing than a distant one. “Where’s the button?”
“Here.” He passed the small white button to her.
“Are you going to … to … uh, take it off ?”
“Can’t you sew on the button this way?”
She swallowed. “Sure,” she said with a cocky assurance she was far from feeling. Somehow, despite palsied fingers, she managed to thread the needle with the pale blue thread.
“Should we sit down?” he asked.
“No. This is fine.”
The button was the third one down from the collar, which placed it in the middle of his chest. Pushing aside a wave of self-consciousness, she took the fine material between her fingers, held it taut and, slipping her other hand under it, pulled the needle through.
She worked as quickly as she could without snarling the thread. Ever aware of his chest just beneath her fingers, she tried to avoid touching him. Invariably, however, she was tickled by springy hairs or warmed by the skin under her hand. There were moments when he didn’t seem to be breathing. When his breath was released, she felt it on her forehead and cheeks. She could swear that the dull thudding she heard was his heartbeat, but it might have been her own. By the time she knotted the thread, her senses were reeling.
“Scissors?” she asked huskily.
CHAPTER 5
Scissors?” He repeated the word as though he’d never heard it before. His eyes were staring into hers, peeling away layer after layer of defense until he reached her soul. “I don’t know where they are,” he said at last.
“Never mind.” Not thinking, only wishing to end this project that had completely unnerved her, she leaned forward and caught the thread between her teeth, biting it in two. Not until then did she realize that her lips hovered a fraction of an inch from his chest. Her breath stirred the hair covering it.
“Shelley.” He sighed.
His hands came up to touch her hair reverently. She couldn’t turn away. Her brain was telling her to step back, escape, flee, but her body refused to obey. Instead she surrendered to the seduction of the moment. She didn’t even try to fight the compulsion that swept her toward him with the irrevocability of the tide. Sweetly she nuzzled him with her nose.
“Again, Shelley, again. Please.”
Apparently he was as transported by what was happening as she. His voice was uneven and thin, lacking its usual resonance. He placed his thumbs in front of her ears and encircled the back of her head with his strong, slender fingers.
She closed her eyes. When first her lips touched him, they were hesitant. But the graphic reaction of his body encouraged her. She kissed him again, slowly, with measured kisses that charted a path across the expanse of his chest.
When her lips encountered his nipple, she raised her head slightly. She could feel his eyes boring into the top of her head. Seconds stretched out into a small eternity. The hypnotic movement of his hands on her scalp stilled. He waited.
“Should I?” she whispered. “Do you want me to?”
“Do you want to?”
She made the decision subconsciously. Before she realized the full implications of the action, her tongue had slipped past her lips to flick over his nipple. Then she teased it further with delicate licks.
Grant gave a short cry before he took her in his arms. “Oh God, you’re sweet. So sweet.” She tilted her head up and he lowered his mouth to hers. Ravenous lips fused together. His tongue plunged into her mouth and de-flowered it, making it his. Careful of the needle she still held in her hand, she hooked her arm around his neck, drawing him downward, closer still. Her other hand splayed on the majestic chest, combed through the forest of hair, pressed the hard muscles.
Her breasts seemed to swell with emotion. He moved away enough to lower his hand and touch them. His knuckles moved gently over the sensitive buds, making them firmer beneath the silk. He fondled her so exquisitely that she called his name against his lips.
“Shelley, did you ever fantasize about this? About my touching you this way?”
“Yes, yes.”
“So did I. May God forgive me, but I did, and when you were much too young to figure in this kind of fantasy.” His lips moved back and forth across hers. “We can make all our fantasies come true,” he urged.