Page 70 of Not the Plan

“Blunt, honest?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Same for me. About you.” She let out a heavy breath. “Maybe…” She put her glass on the coffee table and then reached for his and did the same. “Maybe we should just stop thinking?”

She put a hand on his knee and slid it up his thigh. “Is that okay?” she whispered, leaning into him.

He nodded, breathing a “yeah” as he cupped her nape, bringing her to his lips like she was his oxygen. He fell back onto the seat, pulling her on top of him. The melding of lust and relief flipped her world upside down. Desperate want and reassurance weren’t feelings she’d ever had to manage at the same time. She wanted to examine this, to understand how it was possible to feel both ways at once. But that analytical part of herself was slippingaway; he was overwhelming her senses, obliterating her ability to do anything other than feel.

Their kiss dove into something potent, all consuming. She drew his fragrance in deep, as she clung to him, one hand on his cheek stroking his stubble, the other on his chest feeling his heart pound. His hands slid around her waist, up her back, gripping her shoulders.

She pulled away for a moment, to catch her breath and study his eyes, flushed cheeks, reddened lips.What am I so afraid of?

He smiled, spreading a hand wide on her scalp, massaging. His touch sent cool, sparkling tingles down her back and into her breasts.

“What is it, beautiful?” Even his tone made her feel safe, valued. She leaned into his caress, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she sighed. “Mmmmm,” he groaned. Feeling that through his chest was light-years better than hearing it.

“Call me ‘Isa’?” she whispered.

He groaned deeper, warmer. “Thank you.” He sighed, still massaging her scalp.

“For what?” Her eyelids were too heavy to open.

“I’ve wanted to for a while,” he whispered, sliding his other hand into her hair. “Was too nervous to ask.”

She smiled, then her mouth fell open in a moan. At his sharp inhale, she opened her eyes.

“Take me to bed, Karim?” she asked. The look in his eyes erased the final doubt. This man was worth the risk.

“Your wish is my command, Isa.” He pulled her back in for another kiss. She giggled and tried to sit up, but he wanted another. Satisfied and smiling, he let her sit up, got to his own feet, and she took his hand to pull him toward the hallway leading out of the living room.

“Come here.” He brought her back to him again, claiming yet another kiss. She laughed against his lips as he scooped her up and carried her into his room.

He lowered her onto his bed and took off his glasses. Her legs still around him, he explored her neck with his lips. Another waveof fear and safety rolled through her. Beyond kissing her, arousing her, he was studying her, learning what to touch and how. When she gasped and squirmed as he grazed his lips from collarbone to chest, he stopped, stroking the same spot with his cheek, then with his breath. Her whole body tingled, goosebumps covering every inch of skin. When he kissed hard again, sucking, a high-pitched moan fluttered from her mouth and she arched up, pressing herself against him. He moaned and smiled against her. His observation was so intense, she was at a level of need she didn’t know existed. She wanted to run away as much as she needed more.

“Karim?”

“Yes?” He nuzzled the top of one breast.

“I think we’re both wearing too many clothes.”

He grinned, straightened, and pulled his own shirt off. Shifting up onto her elbows, she took in every inch of him.

My God…

His body was flawless. His pectoral muscles were perfect—large but not too much. There was dark hair in the middle of his chest, wiry, black. But not enough to hide the detail of his chest, or to reach his dark nipples. For the first time in her life, she wanted to take a man’s nipples into her mouth, bite and tease them the way she liked hers to be. His abs were beautiful, each muscle detailed, outlined. She wanted to lick every single line. The dusting of hair started again beneath his navel, darkening and drawing her eyes down to the waist of the jeans she’d begun to hate. They covered the rest of him, and she wanted nothing more than for them to disappear.

His grin turned wicked and he leaned back over her, kissing her, then lapping at her parted lips with the tip of his tongue. His hands were on her sides, pulling on the bottom of her shirt. She followed his motion, letting him pull it off over her head.

As soon as it was gone, his gaze slid to her breasts. She’d been stressed but had chosen her undies with care. The lace bra was structured to give her ample breasts deep cleavage.

He stared at her, wetting his lips.

“Shit,Isadora.”

She sighed, shaking with want for him. As he skated his hands up her sides, an instant of hesitation cropped up. But then she focused on him, on the way he was looking at her, watching his fingertips as they grazed the tops of her breasts and caressed the straps on her shoulders. He looked like he couldn’t believe it, like he needed to see his fingers in contact with her skin to know that what was happening was real. Taking one of his hands, she kissed the palm as she got to her knees. He raised his eyebrows, cocked his head to one side.

Sliding the straps off her shoulders, she bit her lip and unhooked the clasp in the middle, tossing the bra away. He pulled in a jagged breath.

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