Eight Dates With Romance: An S. L. Scott Valentine's Day Collection (2 page)

♀

M
y body leans against him
, relaxing into a kiss that makes me forget who I am. He kisses me like I’m the most desirable woman in the world. And at this moment in time, I believe him.

The whiskey from earlier clouds my head as I press my body against Charlie’s hard chest. His strong arms hold me to him as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. I won’t. I can’t. I’m lost in him as my body sparks to life, erupting in a passion different from anything I’ve ever felt before.

I let go and give into my desires. I give into him because I want to, because he’s so damn sexy, but most of all, because this gorgeous man, who was supportive and by my side just a few days ago, turns me on and wants me. It’s nice to feel desired, to feel pretty and sexy. By the way he’s kissing me I can tell the feeling of want is mutual. I just hope I can make him feel how much I want him, too.

His hips press forward, trapping me between him and the railing as his hands secure me, drawing my body closer. It’s hard to breathe and hard to move, but there is nothing I’d rather be doing than this.

As his tongue caresses mine, I shiver in delight, causing him to still.

“You’re cold. Let’s go inside.” He takes me by the hand and grabs the two bottles with the other.

Walking inside behind him, I feel the warmth of the apartment. I tremble, but if I’m being honest, I’m trembling from his touch, his kisses, and the building urges inside, not the temperature outside.

Releasing my hand, Charlie sets the bottles on the coffee table and turns off the kitchen light. I don’t want an awkwardness to consume me, which can happen if I start overthinking this, so I step forward as he turns on the lamp by the couch.

“Charlie, kiss me.”

He hurries to me. “My pleasure,” he whispers then kisses me. His lips are soft but firm, and his hands grasp me, kneading me with purpose. I’m unsure if his purpose is the same one I feel. Doubt creeps in without warning.
How far am I going with him? How much do I want? Am I ready? Am I ready for this? For him?

I kiss him harder and hope the moan he releases into my mouth will shroud my doubts. Our lips part and our breaths blanket each other as we pant for more. I hold him behind the neck as he rests his forehead against mine. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting reality to ruin the moment.

Too much time to think will be the downfall of our activities—activities I’m enjoying far too much to end. So I open my eyes, pleasantly surprised to meet his blue ones. They’re darker than usual, dilated, serious, and wanting.

“I can tell you’re overanalyzing this, thinking too hard,” he says. His voice stays low and suggestive.

“I don’t want to think. I just want to feel again.” I speak the honest truth.

“Just feel.” His words float breathlessly between us, but hold so much weight in their meaning.

Just feel.

Just feel.

Just feel.
The words repeat in my head and become my new mantra, giving me the moxie to lead him down the short hall to his bedroom. I stop upon entering, looking around. It feels so intimate in here, not bachelor pad-ish at all. It’s warm and inviting. He releases my hand as I step toward the bed and sit down. There’s a chocolate-brown loveseat under the window with some pillows that appear to be used a lot. Maybe he reads there. I would. It looks so cozy and comfortable.

The furniture in the room isn’t matchy-matchy, but works well together. Every piece feels as if it always belonged together. His comforter is a gray-blue, reminding me of his eyes.

Charlie’s voice brings me back to him before I have a chance to analyze the framed photographs on the wall. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting down next to me. He entwines his fingers with mine and places our hands on his thigh.

“No, I want to do this—”

“Do what?” He looks at me, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Be here. Do this … you know … oh, I don’t know. Just kiss me, damn it!”

A sly smile makes its way across his face as his hand lands gently on my cheek. Caressing my skin with his thumb, he chuckles under his breath, then kisses me exactly how I need to be kissed. It’s mind-blowing.

I relax, feeling the gentle pressure of him while letting his clean and masculine scent infiltrate my body. I sigh into his mouth, and he kisses me harder until I’m lying on my back. I use my heels to dig into the mattress, pushing myself farther up. He slides up the bed with me, our lips never separating. His hand slinks up my leg and over my dress, settling on my ribs.

I like the gentle weight of his chest on mine and the way my tummy tingles as he balances above me. His knees are between mine, nudging them apart to make more room. I should feel weird or awkward because it’s been so long, years in fact, since I’ve been with anyone other than Jim—but I don’t with Charlie—I don’t feel either of those. Instead, his touch comforts me as his mouth cherishes me.

I feel his right thumb run lightly over the side of my breast. Losing more of myself in the moment with each second that passes, I push my body into his hand, wanting the same thing he wants.

A deep groan rumbles through his chest, and his kisses become more intense. He leaves my lips and trails wet kisses over my jaw down to my throat. He works his way to my ear, his breath heavy and hot. “You’re so beautiful.” His words are but a sweet sigh.

His hips press forward, and I can feel how large he is. He thrusts his pelvis into mine, and I arch my back, relishing the sensation.

It’s been too long. I missed this—the butterflies, the excitement and anticipation, the intimacy of being this vulnerable and yet comfortable, with someone. I didn’t feel confident in the beginning of my relationship with Jim, and it makes me note how much I do with Charlie.

He stops after he kisses my shoulder. Maneuvering the strap of my dress to the side, he nibbles at my collarbone.

“Mmmm,” I hum, not meaning to do that aloud, but not caring that I did.

Charlie’s left hand moves under my bottom and squeezes. A giggle escapes when I smile.

“God, I love your laugh.”

He looks up at me, his lashes framing his baby blues, and he smirks. Yep, smirks. I’m weak to a smirk, always have been, but his is especially devilish. My knees fly together, gripping him between them, and I don’t bother letting go.

His hand slides down my thigh before touching the back of my knee. His fingertips draw figure eights before he swerves over my calf muscle to my ankle, pausing on my foot. My shoe is removed and dropped to the floor, the other one following with a thud.

We’re clothed, but I feel so much closer to him already. My heart is open and bare to him, welcoming him. With that realization, my mind is made up. I’m going to enjoy my night and stop worrying about the past.

♂

H
er hands flatten
across my chest then she fists my shirt, pulling me to her, wanting more just like I do. I can’t stop my hips from seeking a connection of their own. I have a beautiful woman lying beneath me who is everything I’ve been missing in my life and more, and I don’t want to screw this up. My heart skips a beat every time I look into her pretty blue eyes, so I avoid them, trying to control my emotions.

I groan when our bodies press together. I love the feel of her, but hold myself above her, not wanting my full weight on her slender frame … yet. I’m not sure how far she wants to go or how far we should, but something tells me tonight isn’t the night for us to make love. She’s more than tipsy, though not drunk, but even so, I would never want to take advantage of her that way. I saw how she calculated the aftermath of her decision a few moments earlier and how her eyes brightened when she made up her mind. She wants to be here and that makes my heart soar in ways I haven’t felt in a long time.

I kiss her, loving the feel of her lips, the taste of her mixed with hints of beer. I love the way she kisses with passion, as if this is the last kiss she’ll ever give. Little does she know, if she’ll let me, I might want to kiss her forever.

She suddenly pushes me up, sliding her body into a sitting position then swings her legs off the bed. “I’m gonna take my dress off, and since your being dressed like that gets me all hot and bothered, I can only imagine you’re even better without clothes. I want you shirtless and pantsless. That’s only fair, right?”

She’s bold, and damn, that’s attractive.

“Yep,” I say, “that’d be the only fair thing to do.”

I want to rip her clothes off and then my own, but the virtue of patience holds great rewards. So I calm myself despite everything I’m feeling inside. Behind my back, I shake my hands one at a time. I’m not used to these kinds of nerves. Women never make me nervous, and yet this one … she entices me into her world without even trying.

I look her over, my eyes lingering on the curve of her cheek. I worry that if I rush, all of this will happen too fast, and I won’t get to appreciate our time together. One deep breath follows another. “Come here.”

She moves closer. No obvious doubts cloud her eyes. I’m rewarded with a smile when I run my hand up her arm and over her shoulder, caressing the back of her neck before taking the top of the zipper pull and dragging it lower.

“You look incredible in this dress, but I can’t lie and say I’m not looking forward to you out of it.”

Running her hand over my chest, her fingers begin to unbutton my shirt and yank it down my shoulders. She undoes one of my cuffs then the other, and my shirt falls just as her dress does. I take a deep breath when I see her in front of me, all creamy skin dotted lightly with freckles and goose bumps. Her waist curves in, and her stomach is flat but soft.

Her strapless black bra and panties pop against her pale skin. There’s nothing fake about her—just wonderfulness in its natural form. Watching her as I undo my belt, I slip my shoes off and socks, then pull my undershirt up and over my head. I step out of my pants and leave them on the floor. She smiles and giggles as if she’s remembering an inside joke. She’s irresistibly adorable. I grab her, taking her by surprise, and laugh as she squeals.

“Men don’t usually like woman laughing at them when in such a precarious state.” I take her hand in mine and rub her palm up and down my precariousness. That wipes the smile right off her face.

Releasing her hand, I seize the opportunity to watch her as she continues to touch me. I want to drop my head back and close my eyes, letting her work her magic, but my desire for her is stronger. I weave my fingers into her hair and pull her closer, less gently than before, letting need determine our pace. Kissing her abruptly, she melts against me, so I wrap my arms around her waist until she’s steady again. A quick flick of the fingers and her bra clasp is undone.

“Impressive,” she mutters.

With my eyes closed, I breathe her in. She’s all the air I need. “You did this to me. You made me want you.” I’m not just talking sexually, but I can’t tell her that, not yet.

I press my pelvis harder against her hand and hope I can impress her even more. Her breath staggers as she grasps me tighter, making me moan in return. “That feels so good.”

I can’t lie. It’s been a while and even longer since I liked a girl this much.

Her smile turns mischievous, her fingers grip me with intention then she stops. “I was calling
this
impressive. As for your other skills, I hope you’re bringing your A-game tonight.” She winks then squeezes for emphasis before stepping back and letting her bra fall to the floor.

I hold her eye contact, though; I desperately want to see her in all her naked glory. My confidence builds, with a little arrogance mixed in, and is in full effect. “Oh baby, let me tell you, I’m gonna be the best you ever had.”

She cocks an eyebrow, playfully challenging me, her own confidence skyrocketing. “Don’t tell me. Show me.”

I look at her, taking in her entire body. I’ve never seen anyone as sexy as she is in this moment. “I intend to do just that.”

I lunge at the woman, moving her to the bed. Charlie’s not shy, but she shivers now that she’s exposed to me. Lying down together, I rest my elbows on either side of her head and push her hair away from her face. I look into her eyes, now that I can see them, feeling our connection deep inside.

Pushing up on my hands, I see all of her displayed for me—her bare shoulders, her breasts, her stomach and belly button. Her eyes close as my own follow her lines, admiring her body. I like how feminine she is, shapely.

This woman was already driving me crazy with lust, but now her perfection is here to tempt me into sin. I feel myself hardening from the fact that she’s beneath me and knowing she wants to be here.

I jerk against her, an erratic, involuntary thrust that elicits a squirm and panting breaths from her open mouth. I watch her reaction as I touch one of her breasts, her eyes opening as I appreciate the feel of her in my hands. “Sexy. You’re so sexy, Charlie.”

She lifts her hips, arching her chest further into my hands. With a gentle squeeze, and then one a little harder, I learn what she likes, what turns her on. Leaning down, I lick around her nipple, taking my time. It tightens and perks, teasing me until I kiss the pink tip like I’d kiss her mouth. She’s starting to move around a lot, the intensity getting to her as much as it is me.

“That feels so good … been so long,” she mumbles. She turns her head to the side. “More.” She rubs her pelvis against me. “More.”

Lowering my body again, I press hard against the apex of her thighs, giving her the pressure she needs, giving me what I want. I start a slow rhythm that builds as I suck on one breast while squeezing the other, then switch. Her hands are on my head, encouraging, encouraging, encouraging.

That’s when I start to move quicker, our underwear keeping a safe barrier between us. Her fingers grab hold of my hair, and she pulls hard as she tremors beneath me, calling my name. Her warmth and demand overcome my focus, which is hanging by the last thread of strength I have, and I follow her into ecstasy. My mind is fuzzy as my body resonates with pleasure.

I drop my head into the nook of her neck as my body falls on top of her. I give us time until our breathing has synchronized then look into her sparkling eyes.

“Hi,” she says. Even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks blush with color.

“You’re blushing—”

“Yeah.” She looks away from me, and I don’t like that. “I do that. It’s annoy—”

“It’s pretty on you.” I kiss her, hoping to wipe away the embarrassment that’s seeping in. “Hey, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“It’s good.
This
is good.”

She wiggles out from under me, sits up, and closes her eyes. “Good, yeah.”

But I see through her. She’s going to blame the alcohol. I can tell because I see regret taking over. As soon as I sit up, I wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap. She leans her head on my shoulder, and I kiss her neck.

I whisper, “It was good. It was fantastic, in fact, just like you are. Don’t overthink this or twist it into something bad.”

She sighs. “Can I use your bathroom?”

“Only if you stay tonight.”

That makes her smile again. “Well, if you’re going to blackmail me then I guess I have no choice, I suppose.” She’s coming back around to her usual self, rolling her tired eyes as her smile widens.

A playful hit to my chest tells me she’s happy, so I flip her down, onto her back again. I kiss her once, twice, three times nice and quick before she can escape. “Stay with me because you want to, not because you feel you have to.”

She plants a kiss on my chin. “I want to stay. Now get off me, you big oaf. You got me all … sticky and sweaty. I doubt you want sticky and sweaty in your fabulously soft sheets. What thread count are these anyway?”

I laugh, once again amused by how her mind works. “They’re eight hundred—the perfect mix between stiff and too silky.”

“I think I should worry that your sheets have been so thoroughly thought out.”

“Oh, you should definitely be worried, but not about my sheets.”

She rolls out from under me and stands, her hands cupping her breasts. She’s covering herself, but she doesn’t understand how hot she looks—swimsuit model hot. Turning around and sauntering toward the bathroom, she wiggles her ass and winks. “Worried, huh?”

I throw a pillow at her, making her giggle. “Yes, worried, very worried if you keep that up, you tease.”

She peeks out from the bathroom. “I’m not a tease, and if I remember correctly, you’re a lot sticky and sweaty yourself.”

I jump to my feet. “We should shower together then.”

That makes her laugh. “Um … yeah, no. Too soon for that business.”

On that note, she shuts the door, and I fall backward on the bed as if I’ve been shot. I realize, I have been shot—right through the heart by Cupid. Damn that little cherub. When I least expected it, my life has been completely derailed, and yet, I’m excited to move in the new direction.

I rush to the kitchen and grab two bottles of water from the fridge, setting one on each nightstand.

When she returns, I pass her, stopping to steal one more kiss. She happily obliges me. Her breath is minty, which makes me curious if she used my toothbrush.

“Help yourself to something to eat. I brought you a bottle of water over there.”

She slaps my ass and says, “Thanks.”

As I shut the bathroom door, I can see her crawling under the covers with a smile on her face. I hurry, wanting to climb in bed and hold her until she falls asleep.

When I come out, I slip under the blanket and sheet and scoot next to her until we’re touching. She rolls onto her side, her back against my chest. I take her hand and drape my arm over her, holding our hands against her chest.

C
ontinued
in the Top 100 bestselling novel – Naturally, Charlie

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