She'd chosen her dress because of its sensuous fabric and unusual design. It was a subdued white crepe de chine. The dress had a draped bodice front and back, which was barely tacked together at the shoulders, leaving most of her shoulders and all of her arms bare. The front dipped low but only hinted at what lay beneath the silky cloth. The full skirt swirled around her knees.
She pulled her hair back into a bun low on the nape of her neck and all but covered it with a silk camelia with green satin leaves. Diamond s
tuds adorned her ears.
Ready well before the appointed time, she gathered her crocheted shawl and beaded evening bag and paced nervously, rehearsing what she would say and do and wondering if, when the time came, she'd have the nerve to say and do them.
Josh knocked on the front door.
Licking her lips anxiously, she crossed the room, her knees rubbery. She kept her eyes lowered for several seconds after drawing the door toward her. Then slowly, hoping she looked provocative, she lifted her lashes and looked up at him penitently.
“You had every right to stand me up.”
She could tell by the quirking of his eloquent eyebrow that her contrition had taken him by surprise. Apparently he had thought she would still be hostile and explosive. That he looked devastatingly handsome in his dark summer-weight suit and pristine white shirt almost dissipated her anger totally.
She wet her lips again, this time deliberately. “Josh, I'm sorry about this afternoon. I—I wasn't ready for something like that to happen so soon.” That, at least, was the truth. “I didn't know how to act, what to do.”
He drew her close and pressed her head onto his chest. “Forgive me for coming on like an adolescent maniac. I bungled it, not you.”
“No. I behaved stupidly, immaturely. I thought I was ready for … it. I guess I'm not. Not yet.”
“I shouldn't have rushed you. You've barely had time to readjust your thinking about me, about us. Forgive my impatience. It's just that I've waited so long for you.”
As he spoke, his mouth wandered along her hairline. Now he tilted her face up to his. He kissed her softly, barely applying pressure to her lips, but being thoroughly intimate with his tongue, which entered the sweet hollow of her mouth. A laser of desire beamed through her body, touching each vital organ, the tips of her breasts, the center of her womanhood.
A yearning so strong that she had no choice but to obey it seized her, and her arms came around his neck. She recalled how it felt to lie with him, his body hard and demanding, hers soft and yielding. Wantonly, she rubbed against the tightness in his loins.
“My God,” he grated as at last he pulled away.“You're not making this any easier on my self-control, Megan my love. Let's go.”
The fresh evening air helped to lift the warm stain from Megan's cheeks. Her own loss of control during Josh's kiss had shocked and shamed her. She welcomed the balm of the sea breeze to clear her head and cool her fevered skin.
Their stroll through the twilight was leisurely and solitary. The pebbled walkways were lined with flowering plants. Crepe myrtle trees were just beginning to bud. The camelias were glorious.
“They look nice with your dress,” Josh remarked, indicating one of the shrubs which was loaded with blooms. “Here, wait a minute. Is anyone looking?” he asked mischievously before pinching off one of the vibrantly pink flowers.
Laughter, unaffected and natural, bubbled out of her throat at his prank. “What are you doing, Josh Bennett? Trying to get us thrown off the premises?”
“We won't be,” he said, winking. “I've got connections. Turn around.”
“Why?”
“Just turn around.”
She offered him her back and immediately felt his fingers adding the real blossom to the silk one with which she had decorated her hair. “It took me a half hour to perfect that coiffure. If you mess it up—”
“Be still,” he commanded. He tugged, adjusted, patted, then said a satisfied, “There. That looks great.” His fingers trailed lightly to the nape of her neck. “And this looks scrumptious.” He pressed a kiss onto the velvety skin.
The damp patch cooled quickly in the night air and contrasted wonderfully to another hot application of his mouth.
“Josh.” Megan sighed in spite of herself. The gentle swaying of the pine trees surrounding them was somehow sexually symbolic. The air, laden with flowery perfume, and the shadowy private path on which they stood, were a seductive setting. “Josh,” she repeated, hardly aware that she spoke his name aloud.
“Hmmm?” His lips nibbled, his tongue licked, his teeth raked lightly along her fragile skin. He tasted her like the most lascivious of gourmets indulging lewdly in a sumptuous meal. “Let's forget dinner,” he breathed from behind her. “Nothing could taste as good as you.” His tongue made tiny, quick strikes on her earlobe.
His hips settled more firmly against her back. She lifted her arms behind her head to caress his hard cheek and masculine jaw. Her fingers teased the dark hair that curled over the tops of his ears and clung to her fingers as if with a life of its own.
“Sweet … Get closer to me,” he murmured before lowering his hands to her sides. Suddenly he froze. “Good Lord,” he gasped. His fingers had encountered, not the fabric of her dress, but the warm suppleness of her skin. Barely moving his fingertips, he confirmed that he was indeed touching the sides of her breasts.
He turned her slowly to face him, and bound her eyes with his. Without releasing her from that mesmerizing stare, he slipped the fingers of both hands just beneath the sides of her dress and caressed the plump outer curves of her breasts.