Page 46 of Staying for You

“Oh. Okay.” She shrugs, twists her mouth to the side. “I was going to suggest we do that, but if you’re not okay with it then we’ll just see each other when we see each other.” She’s the picture of relaxed while I’m practically hard already. “I mean, you’re right, we’re obviously attracted to each other and a relationship really isn’t possible for us. We’ll just have to forget about the fact that I’m dying to see if the chemistry between us that I can’t deny even if I wanted to — which I don’t —” I cut her off with a kiss.

I lift up off the couch so I’m on my left knee, right foot planted on the floor so I have leverage and don’t just lay on top of her. I press my lips to hers tenderly, moving them over her mouth in a gentle exploration. She sighs, relaxing underneath my hands that are gripping her shoulders, keeping her close. Shifting so her position matches mine, she clings onto my waist with a tight hold. I slide my hands up to cup her face. Her cheeks are like silk beneath my rough palms and I immediately want to remove them, embarrassed by the texture of my working hands.

But then she places a hand over mine, keeping it in place. She breaks away from me, and I look at her with confusion.

“I like your hands. I noticed them and wanted to feel them on my skin.”

“You like my hands?” I ask for confirmation because it sounds odd to me. To like someone’s hands. Though, I have to admit I spent a bit of time imagining her hands on my skin, too.

“I do. They’re a man’s hands.”

“Uh huh?”

“And, well, I’m used to… the opposite.”

Understanding dawns on me and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my cheeks.

“Exactly.”

Instead of continuing to have a conversation about her ex-husband’s hands, I kiss her again. I haven’t tasted her yet. Not entirely. Our kisses have been close mouthed, I’m about to test the waters a bit and she jerks away.

“What’s your last name? I don’t know your last name!”

“Yes, you do.”

“Huh?”

“You saw it in the emails we exchanged for one thing.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense! I had big plans but I can’t keep kissing you if I don’t know your last name.”

I chuckle, lean over, and kiss her lips to prove her wrong, then let her know, “It’s Cunningham. Owen Cunningham.”

“Hi, Owen Cunningham. I’m Camilla Moore. Want to keep making out?”

“Fuck yeah.” And I prove it by crushing my mouth to hers. My tongue begs for entry and she opens, allowing me inside and we both groan.

I was damn proper earlier. Keeping my hands where they belonged but now I can’t stop myself. She tastes too good to not want more than what she’s giving me. She feels too good under my hands to not touch more places.

Her mouth moves quickly over mine, tongue tangling with my own. Her hands are a mirror image, both of us grasping at any bare skin we can find.

I slide my hands beneath the hem of her shirt and her stomach clenches then prickles with goose bumps. She tugs and pulls at my shirt and skims her fingertips beneath the waistband of my jeans and I almost come unglued.

It’s been ages since I’ve been with a woman.Ages.So long ago, I can barely remember what it felt like but right now, that’s a good thing. She’s all-consuming and there’s a fire blazing between us that’s scorching my skin. I’m glad I can’t remember anyone before her because I don’t want to think of anyoneafterher.

Everything feels right.

Her breasts pressed to my chest.

Her legs that are now straddling me, her hot center pressed firmly against my growing hardness.

The sounds she makes when I trail my fingers up her back under her shirt, pushing the material up high enough that if my eyes were open, I’d get a glimpse of her stomach. I pull her in closer, removing the last of the space between us. My hand curves around the base of her neck, fingers tangling through her hair I’ve been dying to get my hands on.

Her fingers flex against my stomach, squeezing lightly. Her nails are short, painted a blue so dark they almost look black. I noticed them, just as she noticed my hands. Apparently we’ve both been paying close attention, cataloguing each other’s features.

Our mouths stay connected, my other hand slides down her back until it finds her ass, gripping it tightly and moving her over me in a way that she can feel exactly what she’s doing to me.

Nibbling at her lip, I bite a little rougher than I meant to. She gasps but kisses me harder. “You like that?”

---