Page 53 of Trust Again

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured and lowered his lips to mine.

I rose to meet him and slid my tongue into his mouth. Modesty was out the window, along with the invisible barrier that had risen between us during the drive. It was like being on the roof again. Nothing else mattered but the two of us.

Spencer lifted his other hand to my hip. He held me tightly and pressed his kiss deeper. It was amazing what he could convey with a few small movements. At first I’d felt treasured, then infinitely alive, and now I only felt desired.

He nibbled on my lower lip and I whimpered softly. My body was responding instinctively, and it wanted more. I pressed myself against his groin. A deep noise came from Spencer’s chest.

With one hand I stroked his back, following the lines of his muscles and finally clutching his shoulders. Our kiss was feverish and hot, and everything that had built up between us over the last few months was finally set loose.

Boldly, I let my fingers slip under the hem of his shirt. His skin was smooth and hot. Again Spencer groaned, and it was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard.

He ground his hips against me and I felt his hardness through my jeans.

I was going to die. Here, now, in his arms. It would be a beautiful, happy death.

He left a hot trail of kisses along my chin, down to my neck, and pressed his lips behind my ear. I felt his tongue on my skin.

“Spence,” I gasped and held him tight.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered against my skin.

“If you even think about stopping, you won’t know what hit you,” I managed to gasp, astonished by my own breathlessness.

“What a great threat,” he replied before peeling back my shirt. “Oh God, do I love your body.”

I caught my breath.

Spencer scattered a shower of smoldering kisses on my collarbone. His hands held me tight—very tight. As if he had to keep himself from entering forbidden territory.

But I wasn’t about to tell him he was trespassing. Not anymore.

I pressed my hands against his chest. For a second he looked panic-stricken, but when I raised one hand and stroked his cheek, his desire returned immediately. Then I lowered my hands to the hem of my shirt, and without breaking eye contact, I pulled it over my head.

He drew in a breath. “What’re you doing?”

I dropped my shirt to the floor. “Removing obstacles?”

He exhaled through his teeth. “You’re killing me, Dawn Edwards.”

“And you’re killing me. At least we’ll both die happy.” I had no idea what we were doing here but it sure felt great.

Spencer’s eyes grew even darker. “Damn it, Dawn.” And his hands were back on me.

Something molten burned through me and set my body trembling. Spencer anointed me with a perfect blend of kissesgentle caresses with his lips drifting into feverish intensity, and when his fingers briefly slipped under the waistband of my jeans, I shivered. He noticed and let his hands wander upward until they were just below my breasts. He stroked my rib cage and traced the lines of my body as if he’d been studying me for years.

More: I needed much more from him.

I slipped my hands under his arms and gently tugged. He followed my wordless request and let his mouth wander upward. When he reached my face he took my chin between his fingers and tilted my head back so he could kiss me senseless. Our tongues met again, and I sighed in his mouth. My body arched toward him, and at the same time I reached for his shirt buttons. But my hands were shaking too badly to open them.

“Let me,” Spencer whispered gruffly, raising his hands to his collar. His hands weren’t shaking at all. With quick, easy motions he opened one button after the other, all the while keeping his burning gaze on me.

My eyes were practically glued to his skillful hands. I’d never seen anything hotter.

“You look like you’re going to drool,” he said after he’d popped the last button open.

“Shut up,” I muttered with a quiet laugh, letting my hands slide under his shirt. Carefully, I peeled it off his shoulders, stroking every inch of skin. His shirt joined mine on the floor, and I paused to drink in the sight of him.

Spencer was well-built. His skin was tan even in winter, and it looked as smooth as it felt. His pecs were defined and he had a firm belly that tightened under my gaze. With my eyes, I followed the little trail of dark hair that disappeared under the waistband of his jeans, and I swallowed hard.

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