It flared immediately, threw smoke and the stench of burnt sage into the air. She walked around the room, chanting, “The past is released, the future is now.”
The flame grew higher, and the mortar got too hot to handle. She juggled it between her palms. “Ow, ow.”
“Put it down, put it down,” Roan said.
“I don’t want to burn your furniture.”
“I don’t want you to burnyou.” Roan took the mortar from her hand, kicked opened the door to the en suite bathroom, dumped the bowl of burning sage into the sink and turned on the faucet. He came back to her, took her hands in his. Her palms were pink and warm.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“You sure?”
“You took it from me before I got burned.”
“Well, the sage ritual worked. I certainly forgot all about the past in that moment,” Roan said.
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. The flaming sage was the icebreaker they needed.
He brought her palms to his lips and softly kissed her skin. The pulse at her wrists beat wildly and when he kissed her lips again, Jazzy knew having rebound sex with Roan was the right thing to do.
Jazzy’s little ritual had scared the crap out of him, but oddly enough, it did bring a sense of release. He felt alive again in a way he hadn’t since he’dlost Claire. This was it. They were moving on from their pasts . . . together.
Fresh slate. Fresh start. He was ready for the next chapter.
He kissed her with every ounce of passion he had in him, hoping to show her just how excited he was about this.
About her.
They kissed endlessly. On and on and on. The air around them stinking of sage and their desperate hunger for each other. He loved getting to know her. Memorizing the noises that she made when he kissed or touched her in different places. She wriggled like a puppy when he licked the underside of her throat and moaned softly when he nibbled her earlobe.
Finally, air-hunger pushed them apart and they came up gasping. His hand slipped under her sweater and his palm rested just underneath her bra. His other hand threaded through her hair. His gaze beaded on her lips, full and glistening from their shared moisture.
“Wow,” she whispered. “Just wow.”
“Right back atcha.”
He claimed her mouth again, his eager hands slipping down past the waistband of her loose-fitting jeans to cup her lush little fanny in both palms. She was wearing thong undies, he was pleased to note, and his hands filled with the soft padding of her butt. Another glorious moan slipped from her sweet throat as she worked the remaining buttons of his shirt and shoved it from his shoulders.
“Double wow,” she said, raking her gaze over his torso. “You look even better than in my fantasies.”
“You’ve been fantasizing about me?”
“Hell yes!” She peeked at his face. “Have you been fantasizing about me?”
“What do you think?” he asked, directing his attention to his rock-hard boner.
“Oh. My.” She licked her lips and reached for the fly of his jeans.
Before he could haul in a deep breath, she undid the button and slipped down the zipper.
“Whoa,” he said. “Slow down, Speed Racer. All good things are worth waiting for.”
She made a sound of irritation. “Spoilsport.”
“I’m not spoiling anything, honey. Here’s one thing to know about older men. We like to take our time.”