“Right on time,” she told him, and damned if she didn’t wink as she accepted the wine bottle he held. “Come in.”
He followed her inside, savoring the way her hips shifted sensually under the silky fabric of her thigh-baring dress.
“I’ll grab us some glasses,” Emma tossed over her shoulder as they headed for the living area.
“Unless you want to drink straight out of the bottle…”
She paused in the middle of the room, a vision of soft curves and elegant beauty as her fingers tightened on the bottle briefly. “I guess we’ve done that before, huh?”
“Yeah, but you’re right. We need glasses tonight. It’s not Boone’s Hill.”
Her laughter sent chills through him. So familiar. So tempting.
Emma disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later. She brought him a bottle opener before placing two delicate wine glasses on the coffee table. “Let’s see if you’re still good with your hands.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “I already showed you how talented my hands are back at the dojo.”
She settled on the couch beside him, and even as he uncorked the bottle, he never stopped admiring her. She’d taken her hair out of the braid and it curled softly around her face, ringlets he ached to tease with his fingers.
“You look amazing, by the way,” he told her, passing her a full glass.
Emma’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “I put on makeup. I never wear makeup.” She paused. “You should feel special.”
“Trust me, baby, I feel plenty special.” He held his glass in the air. “To old friendships.”
“Really? That’s your toast? I expected it to be a lot dirtier, considering why I asked you to come over.”
“Expecting, or hoping?” he drawled.
Her smile turned impish. “Hoping.”
“Fine, how’s this? To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and whose body I’m about to ravish.”
Emma raised a brow. “You call that dirty?”
“Are you seriously questioning my dirty-talking skills, Em? Because the moment my mouth goes into filthy mode, there’s no going back.”
“Yeah? Because I’m still not hearing anything dirty…”
She was goading him, and he fucking loved it.
“Just remember—you asked for it.” He once again raised his wineglass. “To Emma and the sexy-as-fuck dress she’s wearing, which I’m about to rip off with my teeth. And to Emma’s gorgeous tits, which I’m going to suck and kiss all night. And Emma’s pussy, which will be pulsing against my tongue when I lick her to a mind-shattering orgasm that makes her scream—”
Her wide eyes sent a jolt of panic through him. Shit, maybe he’d gone too far. The last time they’d had sex, he was a nineteen-year-old with zero lovers under his belt. He’d come a long way since then…a very long way, with a lot of other women. These days, his sexual preferences veered closer to kinky than the sweet tenderness Emma was probably expecting.
To his surprise, the shock in her expression transformed into hot, gleaming lust. Groaning, she grabbed his glass and jerked it from his grasp, the red liquid sloshing over the rims of the wine glasses as she slammed both on the coffee table.
The next thing he knew, she was straddling his thighs, her breathing shallow as she brought her lips inches from his. “Kiss me. Now.”
His cock turned to granite as Emma slid a hand up his chest and settled against him, the contact with her soft curves stealing what little brains he still had. “You didn’t let me finish my toast,” he teased.
She undulated against him, her skirt riding higher on her thighs. “Do you really want to keep talking, or would you rather move straight to the sex?”
He pretended to think it over. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“I don’t want to drive,” she murmured. “Not anymore. I want to be driven. Mad.”
Mad was a good description of what was happening. Dean went for it, though, taking Emma at her word. “Any requests?”
She leaned forward until their lips were nearly touching. “What part of me not driving do you not understand? And why are we still wearing clothes?”
He laughed, skimming his hands up her thighs, soft brown skin under his palms. “Impatient. I thought you didn’t want to drive?”
Emma shrugged. “You didn’t seem to be taking the wheel.”
She’d never been so forward before…and Dean shoved the thought away. This wasn’t Emma, the girl he’d loved. This was a mysterious new woman who wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He inched his thumbs under the edge of her silky skirt, stroking in circles and driving himself crazy. “Let go of the controls, baby. Let it all go.”