“It was nice.”
“Well, if it was just ‘nice,’ what’s the problem? Move on. Ain’t nobody got time to settle for ‘nice.’ ”
“It was—” Suddenly the doorbell rings. “Hold on, someone’s at the door.”
I walk to the door, the phone pressed to my shoulder, and open it to find Josh standing there, his face hard and serious, hands propped on his lean hips. His eyes search my face, and suddenly he moves inside, grabs the phone from my hand, pushes the END button, and tosses it on the key table next to the door.
“What are you—”
Before I can complete the question, he grips my face in his hands and lowers his lips to mine. This is no gentle kiss like this afternoon’s. This is a hard, deep, powerful kiss that rocks me back on my heels. I grip his forearms and hold on as bold lust settles in my belly.
He pushes me back against the wall and pins me with his hips as he buries one hand in my hair, holding my head still for his lips. His other hand grips my waist.
Dear God, I just want to climb him.
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, just as firmly and passionately as he’s delivering. He growls low in his throat and cups my round ass in his hands, boosting me up against the wall so my legs wrap around his hips and I’m eye level with him.
His chocolate-brown eyes stare into mine and he again pins me, his pelvis cradled against mine. He lifts one hand to brush the hair away from my face.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, my breath coming in pants. I don’t know if I’m light-headed from the wine or Josh’s kisses.
He shakes his head, nuzzles my nose, and I can feel his erection pressed to my center.
I grip his face in my hands and stare him in the eye. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” He closes his eyes and sighs, leaning his forehead against mine. “One taste of you wasn’t enough. I can’t get you out of my head.”
He lowers his lips to mine again, gently this time, and he slowly brushes them back and forth, nibbling at the sides of my mouth, licking my lower lip with just the tip of his tongue. I’m vaguely aware of my cell ringing, but I don’t care.
I roll my hips, just a tiny bit, and grin when he groans against my lips. He pushes more firmly against me, shooting sparks through my clit and up my spine.
I want him. Now.
Both of his hands glide up my hips, my sides, and cup my full breasts. He worries the nipples with his thumbs as he sweeps his amazing lips down my jawline to my neck.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispers. “You’ve been drinking wine.”
I grin and nod. He chuckles softly against my skin, making me tingle even more.
“Can I pour you a glass?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“No, I’m drunk enough on you, sweetheart.” He settles his lips over mine again and boosts me higher against the wall, even tighter against him.
I plunge my hands in his thick, dark brown hair and hang on for dear life as his mouth plunders mine, his tongue dancing and rubbing with my own. Finally he pulls back, panting raggedly. He kisses my cheek softly and brushes his thumb over my lower lip.
“I’d better go before I rip the clothes off your delectable little body and take you against this wall.”
“Go ahead.” I enjoy the way his eyes widen as he swallows thickly. Holy shit, did I really just say that?
“Not yet.” He shakes his head and slowly lowers me to the floor. “It’s too soon, and as much as I want you right now, I don’t want to rush this.”
“Why not?” I whisper, his words a balm to my ego. I want him. I shouldn’t, and this is nuts, but I so, so want him.
“Because this isn’t a one-night stand for me, Cara. I don’t know where this will go, but it’s not a quick fuck against the wall by your front door.”
“I have a bedroom,” I offer with a smile.
He grins down at me, his eyes happy and warm. “Soon,” he promises, and cups my cheek in his hand once more, gently kisses me, and then sighs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He opens the front door and looks back at me, almost hesitating as if he wants to say something more, but he turns and shuts the door behind him, and I’m left leaning against my wall, a panty-soaked, gasping-for-breath mess.
So much for maintaining my professionalism.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for my phone and call Jillian back to reassure her that I wasn’t just attacked by a serial killer.
* * *
I’m a complete wimp.
I called in sick this morning for the first time in four years.
I shake my head in disgust and pour more beige paint into the pan, run my roller through it, and smooth it over the wall. I couldn’t face Josh today. I need to get a handle on my emotions, and I can’t do that when I’m around him.
He’s too . . . Josh.
How can he just come into my home, kiss the hell out of me, and then leave as if nothing happened? Okay, so he didn’t leave as if nothing happened, but still. Who the hell does that?
And why do I so desperately want him to do it again?
Because he’s hotter than sin and you want in his pants.
“Cara?”
I frown and turn at the sound of Seth’s voice coming from my front door.
“Seth, you’re supposed to knock, for God’s sake!”
And there’s Josh, right behind him.
“I’m back here!” I yell out with a resigned sigh, set the roller in the pan, and wipe my hands on the rag resting on my shoulder.