she could even turn, he had her hand again. “I’ve got it covered.” With his free hand, he patted his pocket. “And that’s not the only thing that’s got you hesitating. We don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, we do.” She met his eyes then. “I don’t think I could stand it if we don’t. It’s just nerves. I haven’t done this in a while.”
“Good.”
She watched in fascination as his lips softened and curved. Something inside of her eased.
“That means we’re in the same boat, because I haven’t done this in a while, either,” he said as he drew her farther into the woods. “But you know what they say? It’s like riding a bike. I’m banking on the fact that it will come back to me.”
They’d reached a small clearing where a hammock swung between two trees. It was so quiet that she could hear leaves rustling overhead.
“I never learned how to ride a bike,” she confessed as nerves fluttered again in her stomach. There’d been too many classes, all that extra math and science that her parents had insisted she take so that she could live up to their expectations.
Jed squeezed her hand. “Not to worry. From the time I was about seven, bikes were my passion. I had dreams of racing in the Tour de France.”
She met his eyes. But he didn’t say any more. He seemed to be waiting for her to make the first move. She moistened her lips and cleared her throat. “I did offer you a fantasy. Just how kinky do you like them?”
He was studying her now, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. What was he seeing?
But she knew the answer to that. He was seeing a plain-looking woman. She didn’t kid herself that in the short amount of time after Sierra’s phone call she’d had time to transform herself.
Suddenly, he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being very kinky, I’d say I like my fantasies at about a twelve.” Then he shot her a quick grin. “Just kidding. Why don’t we try this?” Leaning down, he gripped her chin and brushed a quick kiss over her mouth.
A dozen little explosions of pleasure shot through her. His lips couldn’t have been touching hers for more than an instant, yet every single atom in her body seemed to be reaching out to him, and a delicious weakness had attacked her limbs. If he hadn’t been holding her up by her chin, she just might have sagged to the ground.
“Truthfully, on the kinky scale, I’m pretty flexible,” he continued. “How about you? You did say that you’d be willing to experiment a bit. Did you mean it?”
When she moistened her lips this time, she tasted him—something dark and male and delicious. She thought that with Jed she just might be able to get to a twelve herself. “Sure.”
“Good. Because I’ve been having these recurring fantasies about making love to you in this hammock.”
Zoë shot the hammock a quick look. Then she checked out the two trees. They looked pretty sturdy. Still…“What if we fall out?”
“We won’t. I’ve explored the possibilities pretty thoroughly in my mind, and I have a plan.”
“Oh.” Zoë drew in a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Great,” Jed said. “But first, we have to strip.”
4
“STRIP?” Zoë swallowed hard.
Jed unsnapped his shorts. “Yeah. It’ll be challenging to get our clothes off once we get in the hammock. It’s pretty close quarters.”
Her gaze froze on his zipper as he lowered it. Then his cutoffs slid to the ground. He wore only the thinnest pair of black briefs. For a moment, she simply stared. If she’d had any doubt at all that he was enthused about her proposition, it was put to rest.
“Need some help?” he asked.
“No.” She wasn’t going to think about her body. Just do it. She had a wild side. All she had to do was tap into it. Gripping the edges of her tank top, she pulled it over her head and dropped it on the ground. Then she ordered her hands to unsnap her jeans, pull the zipper. Somehow, she managed to wiggle out of the jeans.
“You don’t wear underpants.”
The hoarseness in his voice had her eyes flying to his. “Yes, I do. Usually.” She just hadn’t been able to put on the sensible cotton briefs she usually wore, and…“I didn’t have time to buy anything sexy.”
He smiled at her in that slow way he had. “My good luck. One of my favorite recurring fantasies is about a girl who never wears underpants.”
She stared at him. “That’s…so adolescent.”
He laughed then, the rich sound filling the air, and Zoë felt some of her tension ease.
He took one of her hands. “Are you telling me that you don’t fantasize about guys who don’t wear undershorts?”
She bit back a smile. “Not yet. And you’re still wearing yours.”
“I want you to pull them off.”
“Another fantasy?”
He winked at her. “You’ve got my number.”
She reached out and slipped her fingers beneath the elastic waistband, then slowly tugged the briefs down until they slid to his feet. She caught herself staring again. “I think I have a fantasy now,” she said.
“Good.”
Before she was quite aware of what he was doing, he’d reached behind her and unfastened her bra. She felt a whisper of cotton on her skin as it slid to the ground.
“Lovely.” With one finger he traced a path along the slope of each breast.
“I’m small,” she said.
“You’re neat,” he corrected.
He slipped his hand into hers again and drew her closer. “Before we get to the kinky part, I want to kiss you.” He tipped her chin up as he lowered his head. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for a long time.”
His mouth was so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. “Me, too.”
“Nice to know that we’re on the same page,” he murmured as he framed her face with his hands and urged her up onto her toes. Even then, he only pressed his mouth lightly against hers before he withdrew. But he followed with another kiss, lingering longer before he broke it. “I’ve been wondering about the fit.”
As far as she could tell, the fit was very good. Each new angle that he tried seemed to get better. And his taste—the wonderful male flavor was as good as chocolate. When his tongue finally touched hers, she had to reach out and grab his waist to steady herself. This time when he drew away, she slid her hands up and grabbed his shoulders to pull him closer. “More.”
“Yes.”
