“We did good,” he agreed. “Hey, let me help you with that.”
She was trying to move half a chocolate cake from its fancy serving plate into the plastic cake container and it was going to end up on the floor. When he moved closer to her so he could slide a spatula under one end of the cake while she did the same on the other, he could smell her shampoo and her soap. He knew it was French vanilla, because she’d left her shower stuff on the shelf in the bathroom, but they didn’t smell as good in the bottle as they did on her.
He’d never really been a vanilla kind of guy, but right then he wanted nothing more than to lick every inch of her.
“You paying attention?”
He realized she was waiting to lift the cake, and he nodded. They managed to get it into the container without mangling the frosting too badly, but then he had to suffer through watching her laugh and suck chocolate frosting off her finger.
Josh could imagine the polite cartoon version of himself throwing up his hands in defeat and toppling off his shoulder into oblivion.
Katie looked at the food and dishes still left to deal with. “I should go change before I spill something on this dress.”
“Don’t.”
He wasn’t surprised when she looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. He had. That was the only explanation for why he’d known this woman his entire life, but now, all of a sudden, he was going to die if he didn’t touch her. Insanity.
“Don’t what? Change my dress?”
“I like that dress. A lot.”
Her face flushed and his body heated in response. “Me, too. Which is why I’d rather not get cranberry stains on it.”
He swallowed hard. “The dress makes me want to cross the line.”
“What line?”
“The line between friends and taking you right here on the kitchen floor.” He watched her face intently, waiting for shock. Maybe anger or laughter. There was no predicting how she’d respond and that scared the hell out of him.
Because he was looking, he saw the flare of heat, and the smile, when it came, wasn’t mocking but one of invitation. “Does this look like a sex-on-the-floor kind of dress to you?”
“That looks like the kind of dress that demands champagne and silk sheets, but I don’t have either.”
She took a step closer to him. “I’m not really a champagne and silk sheets kind of girl, so don’t let it fool you. Under this dress, I’m still just me.”
“I’d like to find out what’s under the dress for myself.”
When he reached out his hand and she took it, curling her fingers through his, some part of him was aware he was stepping across that line and he could never take it back.
Tugging gently on her hand, Josh pulled Katie close and used his free hand to cup the back of her neck. He felt her sigh against his lips as he pressed his mouth to hers. This time, he was thorough, sweeping his tongue over hers as he claimed the kiss he’d wanted under the mistletoe and couldn’t have. He tasted the chocolate on her lips and felt her tremble under his touch.
“I’ve wanted to do that since that night in the kitchen,” he confessed, releasing her hand so he could stroke her back.
“But instead of kissing me, you told me to put some clothes on and went to bed. Interesting technique.”
“I panicked.”
She tipped her head back and closed the small gap left between them so her breasts brushed his chest. “Am I that scary?”
“Terrifying. I scared the hell out of myself, actually. I had no clue what to do.”
“I can show you,” she said, her lips curving into a smile. Not a regular old friendly smile, but a naughty smile that made his body tighten in response.
She took his hand and led him into the living room. For a second he thought she was taking him upstairs and almost balked, but she walked to the Christmas tree. It was still plugged in, the lights twinkling in the otherwise dim room.
“Lay down,” she whispered.
He wasn’t sure exactly what she was up to, but he hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her earlier no man could deny her anything in that dress. Stretching out on the floor with his head almost under the tree, he waited.
*
Katie knelt next to the Christmas present she was giving herself, her heart hammering in her chest. There was no turning back now, even if she wanted to. And she definitely didn’t want to.
One by one, she slowly undid each of the buttons on his shirt. His eyes never left her face and she felt the heat of his gaze. “You’re killing me, Katie.”
Oh, she could do better than that. She threw her leg over his, so when she sat back she was straddling his thighs, before she undid the next button. “I’m unwrapping you.”
She had to pull the shirt out of his jeans to get the last two buttons, and then she parted the fabric. He sucked in a breath when she ran her hands over his chest and down the taut muscles of his stomach.