“Gentlemen fix ladies’ sinks and throw away their own paper plates after dinner. I think you held up your end of the bargain.”
“So you won’t throw me out if I kiss you?”
She leaned forward, bracing a hand on either side of his head. “I won’t let you out until you’ve kissed me.”
Mitch slid his hands up her back and nudged her forward until their mouths met. He kissed her slowly and very, very thoroughly, while he slid his hands under the back of her shirt. The feel of his hands against her bare skin was making her crazy and she wanted more.
When she pulled up her shirt, intending to take it off, he put his hand on her arm to stop her. “This is all there is. We’ll have a good time and enjoy each other’s company and then, when it’s time for me to go, I’ll just say goodbye and be gone. I won’t call. I won’t text. I won’t write.”
“That’s pretty blunt.” And just what she needed to hear.
“It’s better to be up front about it, so we both know going in what we’ll get. All the fun stuff, with none of the not-fun stuff.”
She could use some fun stuff. It had been a long time, and who better to have a fling with than a man she knew ahead of time absolutely did not want to have a real relationship with her? Once couldn’t hurt. Or two or three times. It wasn’t as if she was going to start spinning happily-ever-after fantasies around a guy who was leaving town, which meant—just as he’d said—she’d have none of the not-fun stuff.
“Just so you know,” she said, “once you’re gone, I won’t mope. I won’t text. I won’t sit around restaurants in twenty years reminiscing about the night we spent together.”
He let go of her arm and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. His T-shirt joined it a second later. “Then let’s do some fun stuff.”
Without her shirt in the way, his hands roamed freely over her back as he kissed her some more. She squirmed in his lap and she moaned as, even through denim, the friction sent tendrils of delicious heat curling through her body.
“That closed door’s been teasing me since I got here,” he said against her mouth.
She slid off his lap and took his hands to haul him to his feet. When he pulled her against him and she found herself plastered to his chest, she laughed and then walked backward the few steps to her bedroom door with him kissing her with each stop. She groped behind her until she found the doorknob and pushed the door open.
Then Mitch stopped. He just suddenly stopped cold and, when Paige looked up, she saw his gaze was fixed on something behind her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” She turned in his arms, trying to figure out what he was looking at.
“Is that a twin bed?”
“Yes, it’s a twin.” He looked as if he’d never seen one before. “The room’s small. I could have a big bed that I’d only take up half of, or I could have more floor space. I chose floor space.”
“Is it big enough?”
She laughed. The bed wasn’t that small. “Just how much room do you need?”
He slid his hands down her naked-but-for-the-bra-strap back and then pulled her backward by the belt loop on her jeans. Her almost-naked back pressed against his totally naked chest, reminding her of one of the many things gadgets couldn’t imitate—the warm, hard length of a man’s body.
“I guess that depends on what we’re going to do,” he said against the side of her neck before nipping at it.
“Is this the part where you ask me what I like?”
“I’ll figure out what you like on my own.” He slid his hands up to cup her breasts, which she liked very much. “Don’t like to limit my options.”
He pushed the cups of her bra down and ran his thumbs over her nipples. She sucked in a breath, pressing her hips back against his.
“I think you like that.”
She did, but she liked it even more when he turned her around and bent his mouth to first one breast, then the other. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she held his head to her chest, wanting more.
When he undid her bra and slid it down over her arms, she started to unfasten her jeans, but he grabbed her wrists and held them over her head. “I’ll do that.”
He kissed her again, harder and more demanding than he’d kissed her before. Easily holding both of her wrists with one hand, he slid the other over her stomach, dipping his fingertips into the waistband.
Paige whimpered, torn between wanting him to torment her forever and wanting him inside her that very second. He wasn’t in any hurry, though, as he unbuttoned her jeans and slid the zipper down.
When he slipped his hand down the front, under the lacy pink panties she was thankfully wearing, a low moan escaped her and she moved against his fingers.
“I think you like that, too,” he said, his breath hot against her neck.