My arms slowly wind around his neck, and then he deepens the kiss until I become lightheaded.
I manage to pull back, gasping for breath, and he lifts his head long enough to say, “Jesus, sunshine.”
My cheeks flush, assuming that I must have done something wrong. I unwind my hands from around his neck and try to take a step back, but he keeps me held firmly against him. “I’m sorry,” I begin, “I’ve never…” I trail off, too embarrassed to admit I’ve never been kissed before.
His brow is furrowed. “You’re sorry?” he questions before the other half of what I said dawns, and his eyes widen momentarily before taking on a feverish light. “Are you telling me I was your first kiss?”
I look down to escape his gaze, but his fingers move to my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
His eyes search mine for confirmation, and then he swears softly, “Fuck, Summer, you’re going to kill me, you know that?”
“What?” I ask him, confused.
He simply exhales a long breath and pulls me against him, pushing my head to his chest, stroking his hands over my hair.
Against my better judgement, I let him. Because it feels so good the way he’s holding me and stroking me, and his kiss felt so wonderful, and I’m a confused mix of emotions right now.
He’s the first one to pull away. His eyes look down at me with an expression I can’t place as he takes my hand and leads me through the living room and down a hallway to a closed door.
He opens the door and leads me inside, and the first thing I notice is another room with a spectacular view of the ocean with floor-to-ceiling windows.
Then, I notice the huge bed in the middle of the room, and my eyes flick up to him suspiciously.
“Is this your room?” I ask him. I already know it is. It has “master suite” written all over it.
“Yes,” his eyes don’t leave me as he shucks off his jacket and then undoes his tie.
“Where will I be staying?” I ask him, a little ball of dread already letting me know the answer.
He begins walking toward me as he undoes his cuff links. “Here,” he answers me without missing a beat.
“But,” I sputter, “you said—“
“I know what I said,” he interrupts me, “and I’m a man of my word, so you have nothing to worry about. I won’t force you to do anything, but I said I wanted you with me, and I meant it.” He continues to prowl toward me like a panther stalking its prey.
“So you’ll be sleeping in here. With me,” the tone of his voices brooks no discussion.
He begins unbuttoning his shirt, and my eyes can’t help taking in the corded muscles beneath it, watching how they ripple with each movement he makes.
My legs feel wobbly, and I’m afraid I’m going to collapse onto the floor. He is just too much…too much maleness in one space. My head is spinning, and his scent is all around me in this room, and I can’t stop thinking about how he kissed me so tenderly yet so passionately.
I’m starting to think this might just have been the worst deal in history rather than the easiest.
* * *
Dane
She’s a virgin.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew her eyes were innocent, but I am surprised I’d been her first kiss.
Fuck, that knowledge fills me with such a primal sense of ownership. Mine. She belongs to me in every way. No other man has even tasted her lips, much less touched her anywhere.
I open the closet and pull out a white silk nightie and hand it to her. I motion to the en suite bathroom. “The shower’s in there. Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”
Her hands glide over the silk, and then her lips purse into a thin line.
I chuckle, already knowing where her thoughts are. “It doesn’t belong to another woman. I had some clothes stocked for you,” I tell her truthfully.