her waist to quit stopping at the underside of her breast. Touch me, she willed, breasts feeling swollen and achy. She wanted the space where they leaned into each other to close so she could press herself to his wide chest. He’d come out of the private lap pool here once, when she’d arrived with a file. Even though he’d shrugged on a shirt immediately, his washboard abs had been full-on. He was gorgeous and she wanted to see his naked chest again.
She plucked at the buttons on his shirt, not quite nervy enough to tug them open.
He broke away to look down at where her indecisive fingers lifted away from his breastbone. Without a word, he one-handedly yanked, disregarding the exceptional quality by tearing its holes, pulling it free of his waistband at the same time so it hung loose on his shoulders.
Gasping at his near savagery, she touched her fingertips to her sensitized lips.
He caught her hand and bit softly against the plump pad at the base of her thumb. “I’m dying for you to touch me. Don’t worry, I won’t rip your uniform. We’d have to account for the loss.”
His husky comment made her laugh. Half of her dry chuckle was mild terror because he was taking her hand to his chest. She caught her breath as her fingerprints made contact with the heat of his skin, taut over his hard muscles.
He shivered under her touch.
“You’re so hot,” she murmured.
“Thank you. I’ve always thought the same about you.”
Smiling, she did something she hadn’t imagined she could. She leaned in and kissed his mouth while both her hands skimmed over the intriguing ripples of his upper chest, exploring the texture of a light sprinkle of hair and satin skin over muscles that flexed under her caress.
He groaned, but rather than gather her into a tight crush, she felt a tickling graze of fingers between her breasts. A second later, she was the one to draw back and watch as he finished opening her white-and-red Makricosta blouse.
Her ivory bra beneath was practical and almost adolescent. She didn’t have much to support and had never seen the point in spending money on something only she would see. An urge to apologize rose to the back of her throat, but the way he traced the top of one small cup, caressing the upper slope of her breast, had her holding her breath.
“I have a wicked addiction to cocoa,” he told her as he took his time spreading the shirt wide on her shoulders, patiently tugging it free of her skirt. His returning touch was whisper-soft as he grazed her ribs and found his way to the clasp in the middle of her back.
Her back arched from his caress and her bra loosened. She drew in a breath, hesitant, but his hand came around and cupped her breast. The sensation blanked her mind, holding her in thrall. So much heat. He was like an inferno, and so masculine, but reverent. There was aggression, she could feel the possessiveness in the way he enclosed her like he had every right, his touch firm, but he was gentle at the same time. Softly crushing, as if he knew she would enjoy the sensation of pressure increasing by degrees. He massaged flesh that felt heavy and achy and prickling in one tight spot.
His touch shifted as he leaned in to capture her mouth. Muscle flexed under her hands as she met his searching kiss with welcome. Sensations overwhelmed her, but a particularly sharp one pierced through her psyche. He thumbed her nipple, making it feel knotted and tighter and more sensitive. And so vulnerable, yet excited.
She whimpered, distressed by the rocketing spikes of pleasure going straight through her abdomen into a place that had retreated to hibernation a long time ago.
“God, Jaya, let me taste you.”
He pressed her onto her back on the cushions, covering her so smoothly she didn’t realize how she’d wound up under him, her bra pushed up and his weight pinning her hips, one leg between his, the other dangling off the edge of the cushions.
A gasp of shock scraped her throat as she pulled in air, trying to catch up to this new circumstance, trying to decide if she was okay with it.
“So gorgeous.”
Damp heat closed over the pulsing tip of her breast. Knifing spears of delight pulled upward from her flesh.
Be scared, she told herself, but the scariest thing was how devastating this pleasure was. Her hands couldn’t get enough of roaming his back. His bunched shirt kept getting in the way, irritating her. His weight on her should have terrified her, but when she bucked, it was slowly, because she couldn’t help herself. Her leg couldn’t find purchase alongside his so she let her ankle curl behind his thigh.
And she moaned. Aloud. Even though a distant voice said, Don’t. Don’t be sexual, don’t encourage him, don’t embarrass yourself. She couldn’t help it. He had both her breasts cupped into mounds that he sipped and licked and tortured. It was incredible.
“Theo, I can’t stand it.”
He lifted to kiss her, swooping like a predator to ravage her mouth as he shifted their position and was fully between her legs. The layers of her wrinkled skirt had climbed so his fly came into firm contact with the cotton of her underpants.
Panic began to edge out her arousal.
She pressed his shoulders and he broke their kiss to set his damp forehead against hers. “I know, I’m pushing it, but this is as far as we’re going. I’ve just realized I don’t have any condoms.” He smoothed her hair back from what must have been a stunned expression and kissed her once, quite hard. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”
She did. Her hips wriggled involuntarily and he shuddered, pressing that most assertive part of himself to her vulnerable softness, pinning her motionless as he released a dry laugh.
“Okay, maybe you do.” Kissing her with regret, he grazed his lips over her cheekbones and eyebrow. “You feel so good. You’re so pretty. I don’t want to stop touching you.” His hand skimmed the outside of her thigh, making her trembling muscles contract to tighten her leg against him. “Will you let me make it good for you, at least? Can I know what it feels like to touch you?”
He set a sweet kiss on her chin while his hand climbed under her gathered skirt and learned the style and texture of her mood-killing matronly underpants.
She opened her mouth, thoughts scattering in a dozen directions by arousal and conflicting misgivings. Her mind refused to fix on anything let alone a clear yes or no.
Before she could form words, he shifted enough to cover her mound with a compelling rock of his hand. Stars shot behind the backs of her eyes.
“Like that?” he murmured, licking her neck and easing his touch to a lighter caress through the layer of cotton. Just a soft trace against a very intimate place that made her pulse with need. “Softer? Tell me what you like.”
“I didn’t come here for this,” she managed to whisper, aware that she was becoming completely abandoned, letting her legs fall open to his incredible facility with a woman’s body. Wanting whatever he’d give her. “But it feels so good.”
“I know. Hate me later, but right now can I keep doing this? You’re so incredible...”
He kissed her neck and sidled his touch beneath the cotton, knowing exactly what he was doing in a way that should have alarmed her, but she didn’t care. At this moment, she really didn’t care about anything
