All Wound Up

He walked to her side of the car and opened the door. She turned to face him. “I’m supposed to work hard right now. It’s my job.”

 

 

He slid his hand along the side of her neck. “It can’t always be about work, Aubry.”

 

She hadn’t expected this. Not now and not here, anyway. So when he bent and brushed his lips across hers, she wasn’t ready. But oh, it was a nice kiss. Easy and effortless, without the awkwardness or tension she usually felt when a man kissed her for the first time. He slid his arm around her waist and tugged her close, drawing her body against his.

 

She reached out to grasp hold of his shirt, making contact with a solid wall of chest muscle. A dizzying array of sensations enveloped her. His scent—crisp, clean, with just a hint of musky, male sweat. A swirl of dizziness as his mouth moved over hers. She’d never swooned before, but Tucker was really good at kissing, and this wasn’t even a deep, passionate kiss. He took slow kissing to a deliberate level, as if they had all the time in the world to explore each other’s mouths. It made her wonder what it would be like when they were alone and he’d kiss her more thoroughly. Her toes curled at the thought.

 

He drew back, then rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now.”

 

She didn’t want to admit how much his words thrilled her. “Have you?”

 

“Yeah. You have a great mouth, Aubry.” To prove his intent, he leaned in and kissed her again, making her shudder. Making her want things she normally pushed way down on her list of things to think about.

 

Those “things” had instantly moved up way higher on her list.

 

At this moment, they were number one, especially when his hands moved over her back. When was the last time a man’s hands roamed her body and did delicious things to her? Self-induced orgasms, while efficient, weren’t nearly as fun as a guy taking her to the height of ecstasy.

 

Not that she planned on Tucker giving her an orgasm or anything.

 

Then again . . . why not? They were both adults. He knew what her life was like. And he traveled a lot. As long as he had no expectations of permanency, some hot awesome sex wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.

 

Especially now that she’d gotten a tease of what it might be like.

 

He finally pulled away, forcing her thoughts away from sex.

 

He smiled down at her. “I should probably stop kissing you in the parking lot.”

 

“Does that mean you intend to kiss me somewhere else?”

 

His lips curved. “I can definitely do that. Your place or mine?”

 

“Mine works.”

 

“Okay.”

 

He drove them to her house. She wasn’t sure she knew what she was doing, but she knew what she felt, so she didn’t want to second-guess the feelings.

 

It wasn’t a big deal—just sex. And she’d make that clear to Tucker.

 

She dug out her keys and opened the front door of her condo, stepped inside, then flipped the switch. Tucker followed, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Would you like something to drink? I have wine and beer, plus water and soda.”

 

“A beer sounds great, thanks.”

 

She laid her purse down on the table next to the sofa, then went into the kitchen to grab a beer for Tucker. She opened one of the cabinets to reach for a wineglass.

 

“I can get that for you.”

 

She startled, not realizing Tucker was right behind her. She melted as his hand snaked up her arm to grab the wineglass. His big body pressed up against hers, trapping her between him and the kitchen counter.

 

She didn’t mind that at all, so she turned around.

 

He laid the glass down and captured her mouth in that deep, intimate kiss she’d been waiting for ever since the great first-kiss tease at the bowling alley parking lot.

 

It was everything she’d anticipated—and oh, so much more. Hot, demanding, his hands sliding under her shirt to roam across her bare skin. She could barely breathe, her synapses firing fast to keep up with the sensory overload of his mouth, his touch, and the feel of his body pressed against hers.

 

She was always fully absorbed in work, thinking that was enough to satisfy her. Now she realized she wanted so much more, like Tucker’s mouth on hers, his tongue doing delicious things to hers while his hands worked their magic along the skin of her back, sliding down the top of her pants to cup the bare skin of her butt.

 

Her nipples tingled, her sex dampened, and she needed about ten orgasms tonight to make up for her foolish bout of celibacy over the past—however long it had been.

 

A sense of urgency overcame her and she lifted his shirt, suddenly needing to touch him—everywhere. When her hands slid over his abs, she groaned.

 

Solid wall of muscle. She needed to see this man naked. Right now.

 

She pulled back. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

 

“You sure?” he asked.

 

She liked that he asked. “Absolutely.”

 

Jaci Burton's books