Page 9 of After Party

Then her tongue did touch his and he quit knowing much of anything except that holding her, touching her, really truly kissing herfinallywas relief and torture at the same time.

Well, he’d come this far.

He stroked her tongue firmly with his, drinking in the feel and the taste of her, the silky heat of her mouth, the way her fingers curled into his neck, the way her breasts felt against his chest.

He’d never been this close to her and yet this felt comfortably familiar and thrillingly new at the same time. She fit against him perfectly and as his hands learned the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the slope of her back and the swell of her ass, he felt like he was coming home.

And most importantly, she didn’ttastelike liquor or beer or booze either. If she’d been drinking earlier in the night, it had been long enough ago that water or soda had washed the taste away. And she wasn’t acting drunk. She seemed completely sure about what was happening. Her hands roamed down his back around to his ribs, up his sides, then down to his belt where she hooked her fingers and held on as she pressed even closer.

He was sure that she knew it wasn’t his gun digging into her stomach as she arched against him.

Scott moved his hands to her face, tipping her head to the side and slanting his mouth over hers, giving in fully. He’d wanted to kiss her like this for so long. Holding her in place, taking control, pouring all of his need and want into it so she felt every bit of what she did to him.

But in his imagination, she just took it. Let him do what he wanted, overcome by desire and submitting to his control. That was far from reality. Sexy sounds came from her throat, ratcheting his need higher and higher, as her hands gripped him. One leg wrapped around his, anchoring him against her as she ground against him. Her hips moved against his and all Scott could think was there was too damned much stuff between them.

He reached down, unhooked his gun belt and let it fall to the ground. Without the belt between them, he was able to press into her more fully. The feel of her against his aching cock, only the fabric of his pants and the thin material of the costume between them, elicited a moan from her and sent a deep, heartfelt groan rumbling up from his chest.

He pulled his mouth from hers, sucking in air.

Peyton’s lips were parted, her breathing ragged and she was staring up at him, but it wasn’t with a liquor-induced haze. Surprise mixed into her expression, but the desire was clear and bright.

“Damn,” she said softly. “That was worth the wait.”

“You’re not drunk.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended, but his brain was having a hard time focusing on words other thantake herandnow.

She wet her lips and took a breath.

“Peyton,” he said firmly. “You are not drunk right now.”

He wasn’t asking a question but he knew that she knew he expected a response.

“I have been drinking,” she said. “I told you.”

“You did,” he said. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with this.”

Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his mouth and she took a little shaky breath. He wasn’t sure she was even aware of it.

“Peyton,” he said again, low and firm. “You have to say it.”

He felt her hands slipping away from his back and felt a moment of panic. He wasn’t done having her hands on him. He sure as hell wasn’t done having his hands on her.

“I’m…sorry. That was…” Then she frowned and her eyes bounced back up to his. “You’ve never done that before.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He’d never kissed her before. Even the couple of times she’d gotten her lips against his, he hadn’t kissed her back.

“You know why,” he said, his voice softer now.

She rolled her eyes. “Because I won’t marry you.”

Okay, not exactly how he would have said it, but… “Something like that.”

“Fine, let’s go on a date,” she said.

He lifted a brow. “You want this so bad, you’re willing to sit through dinner and movie with me?” He actually knew that was a big deal and couldn’t help the satisfaction that coursed through him thinking he was finally getting to her.

“Sure. Whatever. Just put your hand up my skirt,please.”

Heat and images andwantflooded through him at her words. He wanted to reach up under her skirt and feel how wet and ready she was. He wanted her breasts in his hands, the hard nipples in his mouth. He wanted to hearyes, Scott. More, Scott. I want you, Scottfrom her lips. Then he wanted her legs wrapped around his waist as he eased into her hot, tight,readybody.

---