Page 29 of Fall Surprises
"Kissing you until you forget every schedule and timeline and perfectly organized plan." I lowered my head until my lips were a breath away from hers. "Touching you until that control you cling to shatters. Making you mine."
"I'm not yours."
"Not yet." I brushed my lips across hers, the barest contact, a question. "But you want to be. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you're shaking."
"You're awfully confident."
"Am I wrong?"
She didn't answer. Just closed the last inch between us and kissed me.
Soft at first—an exploration, a question she answered by parting her lips. I took the invitation, deepening the kiss as my hands slid into her hair, angling her head. She tasted like mint and want, her tongue meeting mine with a boldness that sent blood rushing south.
I walked her backward until she hit the counter, lifted her onto it, stepped between her thighs. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulled me flush against her, and I groaned at the contact. Heat and softness and perfect fit.
"Gus," she gasped against my mouth as I kissed down her neck, finding that sensitive spot below her ear. "We should—this isn't—"
"Tell me to stop," I murmured against her skin. "Say the word and I walk away."
She threaded her fingers through my hair, tugged hard enough to make me meet her gaze. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown, lips swollen from my kisses.
"I can't," she whispered.
"Can't what?"
"Can't tell you to stop." She kissed me again, fierce and desperate. "Can't stop wanting you. Can't stop thinking about—"
I kissed her hard, swallowing whatever she'd been about to say. We were past words now, communicating in touches and gasps and the slide of hands under clothing. Her fingers found skin beneath my shirt, nails dragging across my back. I pulled her closer, grinding against her, both of us breathing hard.
"Bedroom," I managed. "We should—"
"Can't walk that far." She was already working at my belt.
"Sam." I caught her hands, held them still even though it killed me. "Not here. Not like this."
"Why not?" Frustration and arousal roughened her voice. "We're both adults. We both want—"
"I know what we both want." I rested my forehead against hers, fighting for control. "But you said 'we can't' before you kissed me. And I need to know you're sure. That you want this for the right reasons, not just because you're stressed or the wedding's a mess or—"
"Or because I've been fantasizing about you for three days?" She pulled back to stare at me, her expression fierce. "Because I can't stop thinking about your hands and your mouth and what you'd feel like inside me?"
My control snapped. I kissed her again, hard and claiming, one hand sliding under her sweatshirt to cup her breast through her bra. She arched into my touch, moaning into my mouth.
Then sanity returned in a cold rush.
I pulled back, breathing hard, my hands shaking as I gripped the counter on either side of her.
"Go," I said roughly.
"What?" She was dazed, beautiful, thoroughly kissed.
"Go to bed, Sam." I stepped back, putting distance between us before I gave in and took what we both clearly wanted. "Before I do something we might regret."
"I won't regret it."
"Maybe not tonight." I turned away, gripped the edge of the sink. "But tomorrow? When you're trying to manage a wedding and I'm trying to cook and we both know you're leaving in two days? When the heat of the moment's passed and reality sets in?"
"Gus—"
