Michelle Celmer - Caroselli's Christmas Baby

She pulled back and said, “If you felt the need to touch my breast, or pretty much any other part of my anatomy, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Looking amused, he said, “It’s not often a woman tells me I’m moving too slow.”

“I could play coy, but what’s the point? We both know we’re going to end up in bed tonight.”

His brows rose. “We do?”

“Can you think of a reason we shouldn’t?”

When most men would have jumped at the offer, he actually took several seconds to think about it. Which for some strange reason made her want it even more. It was crazy to think that on Wednesday she wouldn’t have even considered a physical relationship with him, but two days and a couple kisses later, she couldn’t wait to get him out of his clothes. And if he turned her down, she was going to be seriously unhappy.

After a brief pause he shrugged and said, “Nothing is coming to mind.”

The way she figured it, their friendship had been leading up to this, even if they hadn’t realized it. That equated to about twenty years of foreplay. Technically, no one could say they were rushing things. “So why are we still standing in the kitchen?”

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