“What?” I whisper, still throbbing despite my concerns about my current neglect of personal care.
He shifts away from me with a groan, rolling onto his back. He throws his arm across his eyes. His chest heaves.
“Dean?”
“We’re not going any further.” His voice is rough.
“We’re… we’re not?”
“I’m stopping with a kiss tonight.”
“What? Why?” I’m bewildered. Even with my hesitations, I’d just assumed he’d be pounding into me like a jackhammer by now.
My whole body goes weak at the thought, and inwardly I’m screaming, “Oh God, yes, fuck me harder, faster… more… oh, please…”
I squeeze my thighs together. I’m on the edge. I’m so far over the edge I’m about to go crashing over it into pure bliss.
Dean swears, scrubbing his hands over his face. “We’re dating again, right? That means we’re not having sex yet.”
I push up to my elbows and stare at him. “At all?”
“Not yet. And I’m staying here at the hotel.”
“For your whole visit?”
“Yeah.”
I’m not sure whether to find this proposal sweet or disappointing. In addition to being so hot I’m about to go up in flames, I’ve also been having all sorts of sexy, romantic images of what we’d do together once he comes back home and my legs are shaved.
“So you’re going to stay at a hotel because we’re dating again?” I ask, convinced I misheard something.
“Like how it was when we first met.”
I can’t help smiling. That’s what I wrote in my manifesto: I will remember how it was when we first met.
I shift onto my side to look at Dean. The candlelight flickers over his strong features, creating a pattern of light and shadow and emphasizing the golden flecks in his brown eyes. The lines of stress that once bracketed his mouth and eyes have eased, his tension replaced by the Dean who is sure of himself and his place in the world.
“What about all that sexy talking we did over the phone?” I ask.
“Doesn’t count. We did that when we were dating, remember?”
“Oh, I remember.” A flutter of pleasure goes through me at the thought of all the erotic things we did in those early months. “We did a lot more than that when we were dating.”
Back then, I’d been both so nervous and so comfortable around him—unsettled by how much I wanted him, embarrassed by all the things I wanted to do with him, and yet never had I felt more like myself than when I was with him.
Now after our long separation, I desperately want him to come home, to be back with me where he belongs. And yet…
Dean turns his head to look at me with those eyes that can see right into the center of my heart. He knows exactly what I know—that as difficult as it is to stop ourselves, this new, restrained intimacy reminds us of the beginning. Of our beginning.
Though my whole body tingles at the thought of stretching out our anticipation, I can’t help glancing at the impressive bulge in his trousers. I battle back a wild surge of desire. My fingers flex with the urge to slide my hand over his thigh, rub all that delicious hardness…
I swallow to ease the dryness in my throat. “Um, so when do we get to…”
Dean puts his big, warm hand against my cheek. “I’m taking you out tomorrow night for a special date. Courting you, like you wanted. And afterward, you’re coming back here and spending the whole weekend with me. Just us. We’re going to watch the sun set over the lake, order room service, take baths together, sit by the fire, and spend a lot of time fucking… fast and slow and good.”
“Oh…” An ache of hot longing fills me. “I love you.”
“I know.” A gleam appears in his eyes, ratcheting my heartbeat up again. “But you’re waiting for me this time, Mrs. West.”
“I don’t want to wait,” I breathe, sinking toward him, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on mine, more of his intoxicating kisses that make my head spin and my body throb. “Dean, we’ve waited for so long… please, kiss me again…”
Lust flares in his eyes again. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me toward him, crushing his lips to mine with a force that rockets desire through me. With a moan, I sink back against the bed, driving my fingers into his rumpled hair, my own hesitations slipping away like torn silk.
He tightens his grip on my nape and lifts away from me again, his breath hot against my mouth. “Not yet.”
While I know that Dean has an immense amount of self-control and discipline, this is off the charts even for him. I slide my palm over the side of his neck, feeling the heavy beat of his pulse.
“You’re sure?” I can hardly get the question past the heat filling my throat.
Dean lifts his hand and traces my lips, pushing his thumb gently into my mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest when I close my lips around his thumb and suck.
“I promise,” he whispers. “It’ll be worth it.”
I ease away to look at him. “You’re really really sure?”