It's in His Kiss

“It’s been a while,” she murmured, “but I remember this as a proven effective method for healing all.”

He loved that she wasn’t too shy to speak her mind. And frankly, he also loved that she’d made the first move, hesitant as it was. He’d make the second. And the third. Hell, he’d make whatever moves she was receptive to, and hopefully chase away her demons while he was at it. But when she leaned into him, he slid his hands down her arms, capturing her wrists to stop her. ”I need to take care of something first,” he said.

“Oh.” Some of the light died from her. “I get it.”

“No.” He held on to her when she would have pulled away. “This isn’t a rejection, Becca. I want you.” He dipped down a little to look right into her eyes, wanting to make sure she really got him. “I want you bad, but I’m all sweaty from my run. I need a shower, a quick one, I promise. But my shop doesn’t have one, and my house is ten minutes away, so I need you to be patient while I—”

“I’ve got a shower,” she said. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He groaned and gave in, kissing her.

Fucking perfect.

That was how she tasted. She made a little mewling sound and pressed closer, like she thought maybe he was going to vanish.

Fat chance.

He slanted his head and kissed her the way he liked it, open-mouthed, wet, and deep. He let go of her wrists and things got a whole lot hotter real fast. Their hands bumped into each other as they moved, grappling for purchase, hers running over his chest and arms, his gliding up her sides, inside the bulky sweatshirt she wore.

She moaned into his mouth.

He lost his head a little bit then. Or maybe he’d lost it the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, he didn’t know. She made him so dizzy he couldn’t think straight. “Becca,” he said, and from somewhere, he had no idea where, he found the strength to pull her back.

Their gazes met, and at the heat—and uncertainty—in hers, he kissed her again, soft this time. When she let out a shaky breath and slid her arms around his neck, he held her off again. “Shower first,” he said.

“And then?”

The hopefulness in her voice went straight through him, and he kissed her again, until she moaned into his mouth, her reaction taking away his ability to think clearly. “And then,” he promised, “whatever you want.”

Chapter 7

It wasn’t often Becca acted recklessly, or with abandon. In fact, it was almost never.

But Sam of the beautiful eyes and sexy voice and surprisingly sharp wit was bringing it out in her. She deserved this, she reminded herself. A night of no strings, a night lost in a man’s arms.

This man’s arms.

She led the way to her front door. She had the very hot and sexy Sam Brody standing at her back, and she was wondering if she was really going to do this.

Could she?

Then Sam leaned in and kissed her neck, and she quivered in arousal.

Oh, God. Yes. Despite her trepidations and unease and the fact that her lady bits might have rusted up and withered from disuse, she was going to do this.

And she was not going to let anything intrude.

She was going to get naked, and she was going to have a good time while she was at it.

Olivia entered the building just then, walking fast, head down. When she looked up, she nearly tripped over her own feet at the sight of Becca and Sam standing there. “Oh,” she said in clear surprise.

Sam nodded at her. “Olivia.”

They knew each other, Becca realized, with an odd pang of something. Jealousy? Nah, that couldn’t be.

Could it?

Olivia nodded back at Sam and started to walk past them, but then she stopped and turned back to Becca. “I know I owe you an apology for the other night.”

“For what?” Becca asked.

Olivia was in another pair of jeans, very cute high-heeled wedges, and a gauzy top that showed off her enviable figure. She was beautiful and aloof, and her expression was hooded as it had been the other night, but she had the good grace to grimace. “Slamming my door on your nose,” she said. “I’m not really a people person.”

“Duly noted,” Becca said drily.

Olivia grimaced again. “I know you were trying to be a nice neighbor, and I was a jerk. I’d like to make it up to you. Seriously,” she said at Becca’s look of surprise. “Food fixes all, right? I make the best homemade pizza out there. So dinner, on me.” She slid Sam a glance. “When you’re not busy.”

Becca swiveled her gaze to Sam, wondering how he stacked up against homemade pizza.

He arched a brow at her.

Olivia shocked Becca by laughing. “Another night,” she said, and vanished inside her place.

“You wanted to give me up for pizza,” Sam said.

“Homemade pizza,” Becca corrected, and put her key in the lock, jerking at the feel of his hot mouth on the back of her neck.

“I’m going to make you forget about the pizza,” he whispered against her skin.

She shivered, having underestimated the power of a man’s kiss on her neck. “Are you sure you want to make a promise you might not be able to keep?” she managed.

“I always keep my promises.”

She hoped so. God, she hoped so.

Five minutes later, Becca stood outside her bathroom, hands and forehead on the door, body thrumming with emotions she almost didn’t recognize.