Tanya Michaels - Good with His Hands

Lost in prurient thoughts, she miscued her shot. She was still muttering curse words when he joined her, tugging gently at one of her curls.

“You have quite a mouth,” he drawled.

“That a complaint?” she asked, knowing from his expression it wasn’t.

“Yes.” His gaze slid to her lips. “Because your mouth has been distracting the hell out of me all night. I’m too busy imagining kissing you to think straight.”

Same here. Except, her imagination hadn’t exactly stopped with kissing.

Despite her innate competitive streak, right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care about pool. She wanted Gray’s mouth on her, his hands on her. Since she couldn’t seem to find her voice, she met his eyes.

When he cupped her face with his hands, she experienced a giddy rush of excitement. Even though it had only been hours since they’d encountered each other at the office, it felt as if she’d been waiting forever for him to kiss her. His mouth settled over hers, and she parted her lips in invitation. She buried her fingers in his hair, surprised at how silky it was. Their kiss was salty and spicy, and her body pulsed with sensation.

Gray kissed the same way he shot pool, with bold assurance and innate skill. He speared his tongue into her mouth, his possessiveness nearly making her moan, then pulled back, teasing, nipping at her lower lip. She was glad she was balanced between him and the pool table. Despite mocking his earlier boast that he made her knees weak, the longer he kissed her, the less steady she felt.

His hands dropped to her hips, and he pulled her tightly against him. The hard length of his erection was unmistakable. An answering need pooled between her thighs. As much as she was enjoying their kiss, suddenly, it wasn’t enough. The sensual hunger blooming inside her had turned ravening.

He must have felt the same way. Lifting his head, he reached for the eight ball on the table and swiped it into a pocket. “Oops.” His breathing was rapid, his voice strained. “Guess I lose. Ready to get out of here?”

Wordlessly, she nodded. If she were any more ready, they’d be arrested for public indecency. A hundred detailed fantasies were bursting to life in her mind, but they all required the same starting point—getting this man alone. Immediately.

* * *

IRONICALLY, DESPITE DANI’S urgency to reach the seclusion of her apartment, the walk across the adjacent parking lots was taking twice as long as usual. Probably because she and Gray couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

The starlit line of trees around the perimeter of her complex offered far more privacy than a pool hall. Gray spun her into his arms, taking her mouth in another kiss that made every nerve ending in her body sing with pleasure. But the pleasure was edged with rising desperation. Her breasts ached to be freed from their confines, bared to his touch. The humid spring night around them was silky against her skin, so soft it was a tease. She needed his calloused fingers on her, needed friction.

She moaned into the kiss, dimly aware that she was rubbing her body against his. “My place.” She tugged his lip between her teeth. “I want you, but not so badly that I’m willing to embarrass myself in a parking lot.” Only half sure she spoke the truth, she quickened her pace.

With his long legs, he easily matched her stride. “Dare I ask what you are willing to do?”

She could hear the smile in his voice, knew he was kidding, but that didn’t stop her fevered mind from creating vivid images in silent reply. “Keep up and you’ll find out.”

It wasn’t until she turned her key in the lock that she experienced a tiny splinter of shyness. Beyond the physical intimacy of what they were about to do, there was a certain amount of intimacy in simply bringing him home. She’d leased the place a few months ago, when she was still engaged, and had never had a man here.

As if sensing a change in her mood, Gray massaged her neck soothingly, circling his thumb at her nape, applying just the right amount of heavenly pressure. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Resolutely, she opened the door. “I was just thinking I should warn you, I’m not the world’s most diligent housekeeper.”

She flipped on the lamp that sat on a small entry table along with her mail. It didn’t offer much illumination, only a minimal rebuff against the darkness beyond. Still, it was enough that he’d be able to notice her habit of haphazardly kicking off her shoes when she walked through the door. Open-toed pumps and platform wedges were scattered about, some fallen on their sides like defeated warriors in a mythical shoe battle. Since she hadn’t expected to return from the office with a date, she hadn’t bothered to tidy the client files, property brochures and books on real estate that cluttered her living room.

“I mean, I’m not a slob,” she defended herself. She never left the apartment with dirty dishes out, and she’d put fresh sheets on her bed just last night. “But my place wouldn’t pass military inspection.”

“No worries. I’m not the neat freak in my family. My...”

When he didn’t finish his sentence, she glanced over her shoulder and found him frowning. Nice going, Yates. You had a very sexy man all hot and bothered five minutes ago, then ruined the moment with your inane chatter about housekeeping.

“Danica.” His gaze bore into hers, troubled. “There’s—”

“Sorry,” she interrupted. “I don’t know why I’d waste a single second thinking about something like laundry or dusting when I could be doing this.” She stepped toward him, not stopping until their bodies touched. His hips cradled hers, the heat of him potent even through his jeans, and her breasts were cushioned against the unyielding muscular wall of his chest.

She meshed her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Not that it required any effort. He was already lowering his face to hers. But at the last minute, he shifted direction. Instead of meeting her lips, he kissed her jaw and worked his way down the excruciatingly sensitive line of her neck. He bit gently, then less gently, and she trembled. His hands palmed her butt, kneading, making her inwardly curse her skirt. She wanted closer contact, wanted to wrap her legs around him.

He lifted his head long enough to ask, “You’re sure? That you want me?” There was an oddly vulnerable emphasis to his words, but she was too lost in sensation to analyze it.

He couldn’t tell the effect he had on her? Her pulse was thundering, and she was so wet, she half expected to scent the musky perfume of her own arousal. Her voice was hoarse but audible. “Never been more sure of anything.”

That was obviously the permission he’d needed. His mouth captured hers, feasting. The kiss they shared was deep and wet and gloriously carnal. Not breaking the contact between them, she shuffled back a step with vague thoughts of her bedroom on the far side of the living room. His hands fisted in the hem of her camisole. She obligingly raised her arms, ending the kiss long enough for him to lift the material over her head.

They’d moved away from the slight glow of lamplight in the doorway, but even in the shadows, Gray growled approval at the sight of her breasts covered only by pale blue demi cups. He outlined the swell of one breast, and her nipples contracted to even tighter points. She shifted her weight restlessly, slick with need. It was inexplicable, how the delicate brush of his finger over her skin could trigger such a powerful response. He circled one rigid tip, and she arched her back, reflexively offering herself up for further exploration.

But when he slid his fingers beneath the cotton of her bra, pinching lightly, it was almost too much. She nearly lost her balance.