"I've got a better idea," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "Why don't you join me?"
A deliberate dare, an irresistible challenge, one he was fully prepared to accept because he knew that everything that had been building and growing between them for the past year had led to this moment. Shrugging out of his sports coat and tossing it onto the couch, he closed the distance between them. He gathered her in his arms, nudged a thigh between hers, and pulled her flush against his hard length until the only thing separating them was the one inch of space between their parted hips.
But she didn't kiss him, and he didn't kiss her- though not for a lack of desire. If tonightwas the night, it belonged to Jessica, and she'd be the one to make the physical connection between them finally happen.
She seduced him in subtle ways. To the alluring beat of the music, she teased him with the erotic brush of her body along his, tempted him with the crush of her full breasts against his chest. He followed her lead, tantalizing her with the stroke of his hands along her lithe hips, her bottom, and along the backs of her thighs encased in form-fitting black leggings.
She closed her eyes on a soft moan and moved rhythmically, sensually, against his muscular thigh. He clasped her hips tighter, dragged her closer, increasing the friction and pressure until her breathing hitched, an unmistakable sign that a climax was imminent.
The music stopped, and so did Ryan, leaving Jessica on edge and just as aroused and inflamed as he was. Her lashes fluttered open, and there it was in the depth of her eyes, the complete and total acquiescence he'd been waiting for since that afternoon in his bathtub when she'd asked him to make love to her. Now, the request wasn't necessary, because the moment wasright, and she was ready for it to happen.
She knew it as well as he did.
Without words, she ran her palm down his arm to his hand, and entwined their fingers. Then, with Rod Stewart singing "You're In My Heart, You're In My Soul," he followed her upstairs to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them, not wanting anything to intrude on their first time together, nor did he intend to share his bed with anyone but Jessica. Camelot would have to find other lodgings for the night.
He turned on the bedside lamp, wanting to see everything… the unveiling of Jessica's supple curves, her incredible blue eyes when he finally came inside her, and her expression when he revealed just how deeply his feelings for her ran.
There wasn't a hint of modesty about her now, just a feminine confidence he'd spent the past month cultivating. His patience had been worthwhile, because he wouldn't accept anything less than her full surrender. Easing his warm hands beneath the hem of the sweater she wore, he slowly skimmed along her sides as he pulled the top up and over her head, then let it drop to the floor as his gaze discovered a delightful surprise… a flesh-tone, stretch-lace, low-cut bra that lifted and shaped her breasts.
He lifted a brow in teasing inquiry, boldly traced the scalloped edge of the bra that dipped into very enticing cleavage, and watched her nipples tighten for him. "What's this?"
She drew a breath that made those full, perfect mounds of flesh quiver. "I've taken a liking to pretty lingerie."
Smiling, he skimmed his finger down her abdomen, to the waistband of her leggings. "You know you turn me on in your cotton underwear, but I like the way this looks on you. And it makes me wonder what you're wearing beneath these pants." In time, he'd find out.
But first things first. Reaching behind her, he unclasped the hooks of her bra, then eased the straps off her shoulders until the lacy garment joined her sweater on the floor. Because words eluded him, he groaned to express his appreciation of what he'd revealed, then he lowered his head andshowed her. Burying his face between her lush breasts, he inhaled her scent, then lapped his warm, wet tongue over the full slopes, grazed his teeth over the tight crests. On a startled gasp, she fisted her hands in his hair and let him taste his fill of her.
It was only the beginning. Slipping his hands into the waistband of her leggings, he dragged the stretchy fabric down her slender legs, and moved his mouth lower, too, kissing her smooth, silky belly, the insides of her thighs, and lingered there as she stepped from her pants. Then he took in the matching, lacy, beige panties she wore, and couldn't resist pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to the satin covering her mound. She moaned, and trembled, and before he gave in to the urge to indulge in a more intimate exploration, he straightened to his full height, toed off his shoes, and pulled off his socks.
The rest was up to her.
He spread his hands in front of him. "I'm all yours, sweetheart," he said, meaning it in more ways than the obvious.
Grabbing his tie, she wrapped the strip of silk around her fist, drawing him closer. She cast him an upswept glance, full of sass and feminine wiles… and just the barest hint of vulnerability. "How can you tell if a lawyer is well hung?"
Before he could recover from his surprise at her question, she replied with, "You can't fit a finger between the rope and his neck."
His mouth quirked with amusement, but he wasn't about to let her retreat or hide behind her brand of humor. Not here and not now. "There's another way to tell if he's well hung," he said, and guided her free hand to the fierce erection straining the front of his trousers.
Dampening her bottom lip with her tongue, she squeezed the length of him, stroked him through his pants until he groaned, shuddered, and had to grab her wrist to halt her caresses.
"Veryimpressive, counselor." She tugged him closer with her grip on his tie, and settled her mouth over his, drugging him with her deep, leisurely kiss.
He let her set the pace, knowing his turn would come later. She proceeded to undress him, taking her time stripping off each article of clothing until he was completely naked. Then, starting at his neck and traveling south, she explored his hard, hot skin with the glide of her palms, her soft lips, and the wet warmth of her tongue until his breathing grew ragged, his body throbbed with need, and his control and restraint teetered on the verge of snapping. He had to stop her, or he wasn't going to last.
"Jessica…" he groaned her name, and threading his fingers through her silky hair, he drew her up against his body and slanted his mouth across hers, tasting the salty, musky essence of him on her tongue. As one kiss inevitably, enticingly melted into another, he guided them toward his bed, until the backs of her thighs met the mattress.
Reluctantly, he let her go, knowing he needed to put on protection while he was still able to think with a semblance of clarity. As she settled on the bed, and he moved away, an uncertain look passed over her features, as if she thought,believed, that he was leaving her. As if he ever could.
"Give me a sec," he rasped, and opened the nightstand drawer to grab a condom.
She lay back against the pillows, watching him though lashes that had fallen to half-mast. Her lips were pink and swollen, her hair tousled around her face, and her lithe body was flushed with feminine desire. She looked so incredibly inviting, so sensual, that he had a difficult time concentrating on his task.
Finally, he managed the deed, and the brief separation from Jessica gave him the reprieve he needed to continue things slowly. She smiled at him as he climbed onto the bed, and she went to remove her lacy panties-the only barrier between them-until he stopped her.
"I want to take themoff," he said huskily. But first, he lavished attention on her breasts, curling his tongue along her nipples, taking her deeply into his mouth until she shivered beneath him. His lips tasted her belly, the curve of her waist, while his fingers found the waistband of her panties and slowly drew them down her slender hips, over her mound, and left them tangled around her thighs for a moment, which restricted the spread of her legs to only a few inches.