Hot August Nights. Christine Flynn
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Looking from the sensual line of his mouth, wondering if it would feel as hard as it looked, she could easily think of something far more shocking than diving naked into a pool. For her, anyway.
“No,” she heard herself quietly admit. “It’s not.”
“So, what is?”
She shook her head. The thought of curving her arms around his neck, stretching herself up against his chest and thighs and unabashedly kissing him felt bold enough. No way would she say it aloud. Especially no way could she tell him that, at that moment, what she would really like to do was tug off his sweater and let her hands roam over all those beautiful muscles. She’d never fantasized about seducing a man before, but if she were to do it, he would definitely be her fantasy.
Realizing she was fantasizing, her eyes widened. Dragging her glance from his mouth, she heard Matt chuckle. The deep delicious sound washed over her like the caress of warm velvet.
“Come on,” he gently coaxed. “In vino veritas.”
“In wine there is truth,” she translated, smiling. “That does seem to be true.” She’d already exposed far more of herself to him than she had anyone else. “But some things are definitely better admitted only to oneself.”
“But I already know you have a deep-seated wish to throw food and swim naked.”
“That’s just between you and me.” She quickly glanced up, her eyes suddenly serious. “Okay?”
“I won’t tell a soul.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he replied, and reached over to tuck back the strands of hair that curved by her mouth.
His touch was light, oddly reassuring and, at that moment, felt like the most natural thing in the world. It seemed strange that she should feel such certainty about him, but she didn’t doubt that she could trust him with everything she said. Not once in all the years he’d known her brother had he ever said a word about a Kendrick that had shown up in print.
Even in the lovely fog relaxing her body and mind, she knew that alone was worth its weight in platinum.
His hand slowly fell. Over the tranquil lap of water, she heard the faint clink of the goblet touching wood as he set it on the railing ledge.
“So.” His eyes glittered on her face, down the line of her throat.
“So,” she murmured back, feeling strangely warm everywhere his glance touched.
“Are you going to give me those keys or not?”
She swallowed, drawn by that delicious heat, drawn by him.
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
Humor glinted in his eyes, tugged the corner of his mouth. “Do I have to go after them?”
Her heart bumped her breastbone. The thought of his big hand slipping inside her jacket and inside her bra pooled that heat low in her belly.
“You wouldn’t.” She swallowed, thinking she should feel far more alarmed than she did by the thought. Or, at least, alarmed by the jolt of anticipation it brought. “Would you?”
He edged closer, making her tip her head back farther to look up at him. His grin was as seductive as the deliciously dark tones of his voice when he slipped his fingers along her jaw. “There’s something you need to know about me, Ashley.”
His head descended, making her pulse leap, her breath go shallow.
“What’s that?”
His mouth hovered inches from hers. “I’ve always found it hard to resist a challenge. Right now,” he said in response to her claim, “yes, I would. And not because I’m in any hurry to get you out of here.”
The heat of his body seemed to radiate toward hers, surrounding her, drawing her closer. She wasn’t in any hurry to leave, either. “Oh,” she whispered.
“Yeah.” His breath caressed her cheek. His lips brushed hers, the touch light, incredibly tender and far too brief. “Oh.”
Lifting his head far enough to see her eyes, he waited to see what she would do.
When all she did was draw a shivery breath, his head dipped again and he covered her mouth with his.
Ashley’s first thought was that his lips weren’t anywhere near as hard as they looked. They were soft, warm and, when his tongue touched hers, the shock of that small invasion turned her insides liquid and threatened to turn her legs to mush.
He kissed her slowly, deeply, his unimaginable gentleness melting her bones by slow degrees. He eased her closer, his touch feeling far more like promise than demand. It occurred to her vaguely that she had never been kissed the way he was kissing her. It was almost as if he could be perfectly content to simply savor the shape of her mouth, her taste, and let her decide just how much more she wanted.
She sagged toward him, opened to him a little more, wanting more of the promise. Or, maybe, it was the feel of his hand and its gentle pressure at the small of her back that had her flattening herself against him as she had imagined only moments ago. She wasn’t entirely sure. Lost in the sensations, in the haze, she wasn’t even sure it mattered.
All she knew for certain was that she hadn’t wanted his mouth to leave hers when he trailed a path of moist heat along her jaw to the sensitive shell of her ear.
“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking?” He whispered the words, his warm breath causing a delicious shiver to race along her sensitized nerves.
She let her head fall to the side, giving him better access. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin.
“Then just tell me if I’m getting hot or cold.” His voice darkened, grew more intimate. “Did it have anything to do with this?”
His lips trailed down her neck, touched the pulse pounding between her collarbones.
“Warm,” she murmured.
“And this?” He lifted his head, brushed his lips over hers, the sensation deliciously teasing.
“Warmer.”
His mouth still hovered over hers when he lifted her hand, pressed it to his chest and murmured, “This?”
Her heart jerked. “Maybe.”
“Hot or cold?”
As close as he was, every breath she drew brought his breath into her lungs. “Hot,” she whispered.
“Do you still want to do something no one would ever expect of you?”
Slipping her hand over hard muscle, the feel of it drawing her closer still, she smiled. “I’m not going skinny-dipping.”