was a tiny pause. She could grab a wad of cash and get rid of him, or she could work on that New Year’s resolution with a gorgeous stranger.
“Would you like to share it with me?” she asked.
“I’d like to share a lot of things with you,” he said, confirming her suspicion that he was as into her as she was into him. Excitement fluttered in her belly. She was so glad she’d packed a few condoms in her makeup bag just in case.
“Please, have a seat,” she said, realizing he’d been on his feet for hours. She indicated the sofa that sat in front of the window.
The suite contained a convenience kitchen and she opened the fridge and removed the bottle of champagne the client had given her today as a small thank-you at the end of the trade show and conference she’d organized. Seemed like the perfect time to open the bubbly.
She grabbed a couple of wineglasses from the glass-fronted cabinet above the sink and a couple of forks from the small cutlery drawer. She passed him the bottle. “Would you?”
“Absolutely.”
She scooted down beside him and he opened the bottle with the most professional of slight pops, no cork banging into the ceiling and champagne foaming on the carpet. He poured wine into two glasses and handed her one.
The wine was pale gold and bubbles chased each other in the depths. Raising his glass in a toast, he said, “To unexpected pleasures.”
His words were casual enough that he could be referring to the wine, but the way he looked at her suggested he was taking pleasure in being there. With her.
The word pleasures had her blood acting like champagne in her veins. She felt light, effervescent. They both sipped and then she reached for the dessert box.
There were four white plates in the cupboard but she was pretty sure she’d make a mess of that pretty dessert if she tried to divide it and put it on plates. She wasn’t the handiest woman in the kitchen. Besides, there was something incredibly intimate about sharing. She left it in the box.
She put her fork into the soft chocolate, taking the very bottom tip of the heart. He watched as she tasted it. “Oh,” she moaned as the flavors burst in her mouth, the smoothest, most sinful chocolate, the sweet tartness of raspberry and hints of almond and something else she couldn’t name.
“Try it,” she said, aware that he was watching her the way she’d been eyeing the chocolate creation.
“Okay,” he said, and leaned forward. He lifted a hand and gently wiped a speck of chocolate from her lower lip. Just the graze of his finger pad on her sensitive skin made her shiver. Holding her gaze, he put his finger into his mouth and sucked off the chocolate.
A funny sound came out of her mouth, like a strangled moan and, correctly interpreting the sound to mean she wanted more, much, much more, he leaned right over the box and kissed her.
The feel of his mouth on hers was electric. His lips were warm and firm and commanding in the way he simply took over her mouth.
Which was absolutely fine with her. Her lips opened and his tongue slipped in, tasting her, teasing her, overwhelming her with the flavors of chocolate, champagne and hot, sexy man. She pressed closer, wrapping her free hand around his neck so she could play in the unruly, thick hair that fascinated her.
They kissed for a long time, tongues tangling, breath mingling, hearts thumping. At least hers was. She felt excitement build inside her, strong and fast. And yet there was no hurry. She loved that he seemed content to kiss her until the end of time, not use a kiss as a quick signal that he was about to rip her clothes off and get right to the sex part as her last boyfriend had done.
He pulled back at last and she saw that his eyes had a stunned expression in them, which she was fairly certain would be matched in her own eyes.
“Wow,” she said shakily. “You are a great kisser.” Best kisser in the world, actually. Best kisser since the mouth had been invented.
His grin was intimate, secret. “The kiss tells everything, don’t you think?”
She nodded even though she wasn’t entirely sure what he was getting at.
He reached out and took the fork from her hand, pushed a generous bite of Fantasy onto it and raised the fork to her lips. Oh, God, he was feeding her, and making it seem like foreplay, which she supposed it was. As her mouth opened to accept the rich dessert, he said, “I think if the kiss strikes sparks, you know the sex will be amazing.”
Again that sound came out of her throat, not a purr, not a growl, not a moan—well, maybe a moan—but it all lumped together in an incoherent cave-person sound. He must have correctly interpreted the sound as a “yes, please, I wantwantwant, needneedneed, some completely amazing sex.”
And she wanted it, needed it, now.
Gently, she took the fork out of his hand and put the Fantasy-in-a box on the table. Then she closed the distance between them. This time, she did the kissing. She brushed her lips gently over his, then pressed against him, taking the kiss deep, deeper.
At the same time, her hands were busy, exploring the contours of a seriously buff chest, abs that felt rock hard. He wrapped strong arms around her and began doing some exploring of his own. She could hear traffic sounds from way, way down below where, amazingly, the real world still carried on. But up here there was no sound but their breathing, growing more heated by the minute.
The next sound she heard was her zipper sliding stealthily down her back. How glad she was that she’d chosen to wear her sexiest lingerie tonight, hoping her date would rock her world. Wearing something delectable against her skin made her feel sexy.
The irony was not lost on her that she’d dressed for a man who’d blown her off on their first date and she was clearly about to sleep with this man who hadn’t even asked her for a date.
She considered asking him his name, but one of her dark, secret fantasies had always been to make love with a stranger. No one but her battery-powered rabbit knew how many times she’d fantasized about having sex with a man who showed up one day, dark and sexy and perhaps a little dangerous, who drenched her in passion, took her to places she’d never imagined possible. He wasn’t part of her past, and there was no future beyond her orgasm—he was only here in this present moment to give her pleasure.
In her wildest dreams she’d never imagined living out her fantasy.
It seemed she was about to do exactly that.
She did know a bit about who he was, of course. He was an excellent waiter at one of the top restaurants in Seattle. Sure, he could still turn out to moonlight as a serial killer, but all her instincts about people–and they were pretty good—told her she could trust him.
She leaned forward so the blue fabric slipped off her shoulders and slid to her waist.
The sound he made was satisfyingly incoherent. He reached out and traced the outline of her breasts through the ecru lace of her bra. Her nipples ached for his touch and she could feel them acting as pushy as they knew how, thrusting forward, begging for attention.
But he didn’t rush there. Not yet. He continued his slow exploration of her body while she began struggling with the buttons of his black dress shirt, fumbling
