“I want to put together some kind of plan for you to see as much as possible. So maybe you should tell me about your hobbies or likes and dislikes.”
He noticed she wasn’t looking at him. She seemed to have become fascinated by the back of his computer monitor. And instead of standing comfortably, she shifted her weight and twisted her fingers together. Almost as if she were nervous.
“I don’t have a lot of hobbies.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, it might not just be for you. It might be about other people.”
“What other people?”
“Your other people.”
She’d lost him. “What are you talking about?”
“Your family. Children.” She paused. “Mrs. Dr. Simon Bradley.” She glanced up at him. “You never said if you were married.”
Now it all made sense. She was worried. He probably shouldn’t like that, but he did. He liked her hesitation and the flush on her cheeks. He liked the implication that the answer to the question was important to her.
“I’m not married.”
Her eyes brightened. “Really?”
“It doesn’t seem to be something I would have forgotten.”
“You’d be amazed how many men do.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?”
“No. The men in my life haven’t been married. Just not that interested in me.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You do?”
He took a step toward her. “Very much.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He took another step. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I were married.”
“That’s what I thought, but I wanted to be sure.”
“Very sensible of you.”
“No one has ever called me sensible before,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “No one sees me that way.”
He wanted to ask how other people did see her and how she saw herself. He wanted to know everything about her, but those questions were for another time. Right now what was important was being close to her.
He pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, stepping into his embrace with an eagerness that excited him.
They’d done this enough times that the feel of her was familiar. But instead of that making him less interested, he found himself wanting to experience every part of kissing her again and again. He wanted to inhale the scent of her body, to feel her soft mouth against his. He wanted her taste, her curves, all of her.
Their kiss began slowly, almost tentatively, as if they were both taking their time. Lips clung, creating heat that ripped through him before settling in his groin.
He moved his hands up and down her back, then set them on her waist. She tilted her head and parted her lips. The invitation was clear and he began to circle her tongue with his, beginning the erotic dance of desire.
She tasted sweet, like ice cream or candy. Without thinking, without planning, he continued to kiss her deeply while moving his hands higher and higher. Before he knew what he’d done, he’d cupped her br**sts, feeling the weight of her full curves.
In the back of his mind, he was aware of the partially open door, of the fact that anyone could see them, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not now that he’d touched her so intimately. He had to know more. He had to know everything.
He explored her curves with his fingers, then brushed his thumbs against her ni**les. Relief battled with need when he found they were already tight and hard, visible and tactile proof of her reaction to his touch. He lingered there, rubbing, massaging, then felt the uncomfortable heaviness of his erection when she moaned quietly.
He stretched out one arm and pushed the door shut. The second he heard the latch engage, he drew back from their kiss and pulled up her T-shirt. He unfastened her bra with an easy flick of his surgeon’s trained hands and pushed up her bra as well.
Her br**sts were perfect. Full and pale, with pink areolae. He leaned in and took her left nipple in his mouth, sucking deeply.
The taste of her was beyond exquisite. The warmth of her soft skin enticed him. He moved his tongue over and around, savoring everything. He used his hand on her other breast. She rested her fingers on his shoulders.
He was aware of her head falling back, of the quickness of her breathing. He flicked his tongue against her nipple and she moaned. The sound—the most erotic he’d ever heard—was followed by a shudder that swept through her body.
He moved to her other breast. Now her breathing came in pants as she squirmed to get closer. He knew she was wet and swollen, as aroused as he was. It would only take a second to rip off her jeans and panties, to bury himself inside her.