smiled and walked toward the elevators. “I’m just relieved. It took so long getting your coat, I thought y’all had come to your senses.”
“Nope. How about you?”
“Not planning on being sensible for a while. It’ll feel good.”
“That’s the plan.” Once in the elevator alone, she let him push the button for their floor before she pulled him to her. She ran her hands over his chest as he bent toward her. His lips covered hers, surprising her with his passion. Maybe he didn’t need warming up. She smiled against his mouth, pleased he hadn’t been having second thoughts, after all.
“What?” he asked. “Do I kiss funny?”
She started to assure him otherwise but stopped. “Hmm. I’d better double-check.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“You asked.”
His mouth closed on hers, his lips capturing her bottom lip, then his tongue swept in, arousing, claiming, inflaming her with need. Their breathing grew erratic.
When she came up for air, she shook her head. “Not funny.”
He ran his hands over her back, her hips, her breasts, sending her pulse racing. The elevator dinged as it slowed to their floor, drawing them apart. The doors opened, and they stepped out, heading toward their room. Silent, side by side, but not touching.
He stopped and drew the key card out of his pocket. The lock flashed green.
Scott opened the door and flipped on the light. “Ladies first.”
He breathed in Ginger’s exotic scent as she walked into the room. Something flowery but not cloying. More seductive than sweet. It made him think of hothouses, but maybe that was his overheated body. She’d done that to him, too.
The last time he’d felt an attraction this strong—Samantha, of course, and it was just wrong to think of her now. Not fair to any of the three of them. The similarities between the two women—both physically and in their “seize the day” outlooks—had drawn him to Ginger. But the way her touch made his blood burn led him here. That, and the concern in her eyes when that damned song started. He didn’t need to hear about missing the ones you loved. Not tonight.
Ginger tossed her coat on a chair, drawing his thoughts back to her. Her hips swayed under that silky dress in a way that roused him. Not a chance she wore anything under there. She leaned across the desk in the corner and turned on the lamp, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He trailed his eyes over her backside, thinly veiled by her dress and arched toward him, and he imagined things he could do to her on that desk. As she turned, he took a moment to appreciate the play of the light over her breasts, creating shadows and highlighting exposed skin.
His groin tightened to a deeper ache. She strolled back toward him and only then did he realize he stood like an idiot just inside the door. He’d been so transfixed by the sight of her, seductive and alluring, he hadn’t moved.
He’d noticed her on the dance floor earlier, appreciated her from a distance, and would have been satisfied watching the party girl having fun. Until he saw her standing off to the side in an unguarded moment, watching the others, and seeming lonely and out of place. Something had stirred inside him, recognizing a kindred spirit.
Ginger caught his eye and flipped off the overhead light switch, casting the room into a dim glow. Her hands slid across his chest, up to his shoulders, and he pulled her against him, his mouth devouring hers. Hot, hard, wet. He had to slow down. She deserved wooing—or at least some patience. Not to be attacked by a sex-starved man.
Her fingers brushed his stomach. His jacket opened as she slipped her hands inside, caressing his chest, sliding the material from his shoulders. She was undressing him, and he’d only contributed hot kisses.
Leaning back, he pulled off his jacket and let it drop to the floor, then ran his hands over her bare shoulders. He bent to taste the freckles there, then kissed his way up her neck, smiling as she shivered. His hands trailed up her ribs, fingers making lazy circles. Ginger pressed against him, her breasts prodding his chest. He let his thumbs trace slowly upward as his lips captured hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth. He wanted to savor her, to slow down and relish every second. Lick every inch of her warm skin until she burned as hot as he did already.
He ran the pad of his thumb across her nipple, and she moaned his name. His erection jutted against her abdomen like a heat-seeking missile. He caressed her shoulders, her arms, her breasts, his hands restless over her, learning her shape as he listened for the catch of her breath to discern what she liked. His fingers unhooked the clasp at her neck, and the top of her dress loosened. One shift had it dropping to her waist, trapped by the press of their hips. His breath caught at the sight of her breasts, all creamy skin and feminine curves, and he lowered his head to savor her.
“Scott,” she moaned, pushing her hips against him.
He bent her backward, one hand supporting her shoulders, one cupping her bottom, the lushness there enticing him to caress. The soft warmth of her skin filled his mouth; his tongue flicked over her nipple. Her perfume blended with her natural womanly scent, stirring him. Little noises in her throat urged him on.
She opened his shirt and pushed it down his shoulders. Scott shrugged free of it so she could touch him, then shuddered when she did. Desire burned him. He walked her toward the king-size bed, not letting any space fall between them.
“Let’s get this off,” he said, peeling the dress over her hips. Tearing it off was more likely, but he called on his years of experience to slow down. Despite feeling like a teenager with his first girl in the backseat, he was a man who knew how to please a woman, and he desperately wanted to make this pleasurable for Ginger. To thank her for reminding him how good sex felt, for helping him feel alive again.
He’d been wrong; she wasn’t naked under the dress. His hands revealed a tiny flesh-colored thong, sexier than bare skin. He swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers moving on their own to his zipper as she shimmied—there was no other word for the wiggle of her body—out of the thong. Bending slightly without losing eye contact, she slipped off her high heels, then stood before him wearing only a small smile and earrings. Naked and alluring; a goddess with a most devoted worshipper.
He kicked out of his pants and his shoes, all patience gone. Heat, need, urgency took control of him. He couldn’t form a coherent thought, but he knew women liked words.
“Y’all are so beautiful. I’ve lost my breath.” His knees quivered so much, he could barely stand. His arms shook as he pulled her close again, but restrained his impulses and reined in his desire. He yearned to thrust into her, bury himself deep and hold her to him until neither could endure another moment without moving.
He encountered a bobby pin in her hair and gently removed it, then set to work on its companions. The barrette baffled him, and after a clumsy attempt, he broke the kiss. “You’ll have to do it. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
Her mouth twisted briefly before her hands rose, drawing his gaze to the outthrust of her breasts. He forgot to question her odd expression as waves of apricot hair fell to her shoulders.
She set the barrette on the table, then lay back, not taking her eyes from his, inching upward on the bed to make room. He yanked off his boxers and her gaze flickered down. Her tongue came out to lick her lips as though her mouth were as dry as his. He swelled with masculine
