Desire and anticipation ran through my bloodstream like a herd of wild horses. He was coming for me, now. This was really happening. Weeks of flirtation and desperate longing were finally coming to an end, now, tonight. My mind zoned out, lost in thoughts of Thomas’s eyes, Thomas’s hands, his lips, his….the washing machine buzzed and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I ripped the bikini from the washer, threw it in the dryer and punched the start button.
A Jaguar pulled up outside and a god emerged from its interior. He stood up, leaning over the roof of the vehicle for a moment to stare at me through the windows of the store. I gulped.
He was gorgeous, in a deep blue sweater and a houndstooth scarf under a camel-tone brushed cashmere trench coat. Strong hands were clad in dark leather gloves and his fingers stretched impatiently, clenching and unclenching as he strode to the door, opened it and stepped inside.
I swear the entire building swooned at the same time I did. I could almost hear it, cement and tile and metal sighing in unison with me. All the universe—animal, vegetable and mineral were grateful in that moment to be in the presence of this magnificent creature. Thomas Grayson. All mine.
He walked towards me, pulling at the fingers of one glove as he did, until the leather gave way. He reached for me, his cold hand ghosting over my cheek and threading into my hair. I turned into his palm, and kissed it.
“Congratulations, graduate,” he said. “You’re glowing.”
I giggled, and then blushed like an idiot. “Sorry,” I said. “Thanks. I think I’m nervous.”
“Good,” he said, his smile curling into devilish dimples.
“Good?” I gaped at him. “Shouldn’t you tell me not to be nervous or something?”
“Why would I do that?” he said, stepping into me, caging me between his body and the machines, a re-creation of our first time in this building. “I like you nervous. That blush across your cheeks,” he said, gliding a finger over my skin, “it’s so becoming, Jane.”
I blushed again, felt my panties dampen and my knees threaten to mutiny. I bit my lip and looked up at him through my lashes.
He pulled at the glove on his other hand, flexing his fingers as he freed them. He pushed both hands into my hair and cradled the back of my head, angling my chin up with his thumbs. His mouth crashed down on mine, devouring me, his tongue probing the seam of my lips and slipped in, tangling with mine, teasing and playing, sweeping over the warm wet depths of my mouth, coaxing a moan from me that was startlingly raw.
“Gahhhh,” I said, when he broke the kiss. I was trembling.
“These going?” he said, stepping back from me, pointing at my suitcase and garment bag.
“Yes.” I nodded, barely able to form words.
He picked up the bags and walked to the car, laying both of them neatly in the trunk before coming back inside.
“Anything else?” he asked, the dryer buzzing as he spoke.
“Not anymore,” I said. I reached into the machine and grabbed the bikini, stuffing it deep into my coat pocket before he could see what I had. I wanted it to be a surprise.
“Good,” he said when I turned back to him. “Because if we spend another minute here I’m going to do to you what I wanted to the first time we were here.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, my voice nearly cracking with desire as he advanced on me, his eyes dark and dangerous.
“Bend you over this machine,” he said, his lips pressed against my ear, “rip those leggings from your body,” his hands coasted to my waist, “and pound into you until you scream so loud they can hear you in the Dean’s office.” He squeezed me, hard, and I squealed as his fingers found the ticklish spot beneath my ribs.
“Unhand me, you brute!” I yelled at him, laughing and pushing at his chest, then twisted, trying to squirm out of his grasp.
“Never.” He laughed, breathless, holding me tightly around the waist, his head resting on my back. He lifted me then, swung me up in his arms and held me like a princess just rescued from a castle. “Never,” he repeated and kissed me on the forehead.
He strode towards the door, stopping once to let me retrieve my purse from the top of the machine, before pushing out of the exit and depositing me gently on the curb.
“Milady,” he said, bowing ridiculously as he opened my door, “your chariot.”
“Why thank you, uh, sir knight,” I said, feeling deliciously foolish.
“My pleasure.” He bowed again, took my hand and kissed it, before closing the door.
God help me, I blushed again. Everywhere.
* * *
We didn’t speak much during the drive, and I was grateful for it. Scrabble champion or no, my nerves were so raw I don’t think I could have strung together a coherent sentence if my title had depended on it. Thomas turned on the radio, a satellite station that played mellow classical music. He held my hand for most of the ride, his thumb caressing my skin.
“What a rare gift it is,” he said, raising my hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to my knuckles, “to sit with someone in comfortable silence.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said.
“Were you?”
“Yeah, really. But now I’m going to ruin it, because I’m dying to know where we’re going, and I think I might have it figured out.”
“I doubt it,” he said.
“We’re headed to Portland,” I said, “to a hotel on the coast.”