Five

JP stood just inside the door, his hands jammed into the pockets of his trousers as Emily moved around the small room, turning on lights. She was talking, making nervous excuses for the small size of the apartment, saying something about not having a chance to clean.

JP didn't care about the size of her apartment. And there could be a pile of garbage ten feet high in the middle of the room and he wouldn't have noticed it. He only noticed Emily. How she had kicked off those sexy black heels as soon as they stepped inside. The way a few strands of hair had come loose and curled around her neck. The way her hands seemed to flutter as she tossed the heavy wrap across the back of the sofa and fluffed a pillow. The way her eyes darted to his, barely landing on him before flitting away.

Her nervousness was charming. Refreshing, even. He didn't want her to be nervous. No, he wanted her in his arms. Wanted to feel the warmth of her body pressed against his. Wanted to hear her soft sighs as he learned every inch of her.

He shoved his hands even deeper into his pockets and shifted, trying to get comfortable. Easier said than done, considering his cock had sprung to life two hours ago.

All the more reason for him to stay where he was. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Emily off—and he was pretty sure that jumping her would do exactly that. She wasn't like other women he knew, wasn't looking for only one thing from him.

He didn't want to screw this up. He didn't know what it was about Emily, why he seemed so drawn to her. But he was, and that was it. No, he didn't want to screw this up.

She paused, finally looked over at him with a small frown. "You don't have to stand over there. You can sit down. I mean, if you want to. Maybe you have to leave?"

There it was again, that tremor of uncertainty in her soft voice. Like she wasn't quite sure what to do with him. More like she wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do with her. He'd noticed the change as soon as she found out who he was—like she couldn't believe he had asked her out. He had so hoped to keep it a secret, at least for tonight.

She kept watching him, her hands twisting in front of her. So he gave her a bright smile and moved toward the small sofa, taking a seat near the end. He held his hand out, silently inviting her to sit with him. She hesitated, long enough that he thought she'd refuse.

"Come. Sit with me. I won't bite." He wiggled his fingers, his smile widening when she finally took his hand. He tugged, pulling her to the sofa next to him. Close, but not too close. Not on his lap, like he wanted.

And he should have never thought that, not when he could too easily imagine the firmness of her ass cupped against his hard-on. He swallowed a groan and draped his arm over her shoulders, hoping she wouldn't notice the hard length of his cock straining against the wool trousers.

He shifted, turning so he was facing her, and lightly ran the tip of his fingers along the back of her neck. She stiffened for just a second, her lids fluttering before she relaxed against his touch.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

Her gaze darted to his, the blue of her eyes so deep, so dark. He could lose himself in her gaze, willingly drown himself in their depths.

"I did. Thank you."

"No, thank you. It was my pleasure."

A small flush caressed her cheeks and she looked away, her teeth pulling on her lower lip. The sight sent another surge of desire ripping through him. Potent, powerful. Consuming.

Odd, that word. Consuming. But that described what he wanted—what he needed—so perfectly. He wanted to be consumed by Emily, wanted to devour her as she devoured him. Wanted to be lost in her touch, her taste, her kisses.

Her body.

JP swallowed another groan and shifted again, his fingers never stopping their gentle caress along her neck. Did she feel any of what he felt? Possibly. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

He traced the column of her neck, carefully ran the tips of his fingers across her cheek. Down, tracing the delicate line of her jaw, the fullness of her lower lip. Soft, sensuous.

Her head turned toward him, her eyes wide and filled with surprise. JP caught her gaze, held it as he continued stroking her lower lip. Then he leaned forward and claimed her mouth with his. Gentle, soft. Seeking, learning.

The banked fires of desire erupted inside him, their flames scorching him. Her mouth opened on a small gasp of surprise. He took merciless advantage, thrusting his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth. She sighed again and pressed closer, her hand coming between them to rest against his chest.

He cupped the back of her head, deepened the kiss as she clung to him. Soft whimpers curled around them, tiny little noises of desire that heated his blood. And still he kissed her, drinking in her sweetness, quenching a thirst he hadn't known existed. The strength of his need startled him, his mind telling him to slow down.

His body demanding surrender.

And still he kissed her, their tongues meeting. Slow at first, tentative. Almost shy as each learned the other. Then bolder, heavy strokes and thrusts, deep and demanding. Possessing, claiming.

JP pulled the clip from her hair, felt soft strands cascade against the back of his hand. Silky smooth, warm and vibrant. He threaded his fingers through the strands and tightened his hold on the back of her head. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and shifted, moaning as she sprawled across his lap. She stiffened, just for a second, then uttered her own little moan as she wiggled against him.

Against the hard length of his cock.

JP broke the kiss, pulled away and gazed into her eyes. Wide, the pupils large, the deep blue glazed with passion. He leaned forward, dragged his mouth along the column of her throat, moaned when her head tilted back. He pressed a kiss against the pulse beating hard under delicate skin, reached out and ran one hand along the length of her leg. Smooth skin, warm and firm, alive beneath his touch.

She sighed, the sound soft and low as he trailed his fingers along her calf, behind her knee, up her thigh. Stopped just above the hem of her dress, trailed them back down again. Over and over as his mouth caressed her neck, the delicate line of her collarbone.

Her hands dug into his shoulders, her bottom pressing against his throbbing cock. She lifted her head, her lips parting as her mouth searched for his. Another kiss, this one deeper, wilder. Untamed.

JP pulled her closer, pressed his hips against the firmness of her ass and groaned. Need filled him, desperate, clawing, demanding. He slid his fingers under her dress, tracing lines along the sensitive flesh of her thigh. Higher, until he reached the lacy edge of fabric covering her heat. He dipped his finger inside the elastic, swallowed her small cry as he slid his finger along her clit.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his breaths nothing more than harsh gasps as he watched her. Her lids fluttered open, her eyes wide and dazed as he stroked her clit. Over and over, harder, her hips meeting each stroke, her ass pressing against his erection, a sweet torture he didn't want to end.

And it wouldn't end. Not tonight. Not here. Not for him. This was about her, about his Emilie.

He pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered, quiet words in French and English. Over and over as his strokes grew bolder, relentless, driving her to the edge.

Her lids fluttered open once more, her gaze shooting to his. Passion. Desire. Confusion. Bewilderment. He caught her mouth, the kiss deep and possessive, pulled away to watch her.

Her mouth parted, silent breaths escaping as her body tightened, her fingers digging into the hard flesh of his shoulders. Then her head tilted back, a low moan escaping her full lips as her climax overtook her.

"Beautiful. So beautiful." His voice was hoarse, the words rough in the heavy air around them. He leaned forward, caught her mouth with his, claimed her as the tremors wracking her body subsided. Stilled.

He gentled his touch, moved his hand and trailed his fingers back down her thigh. Still kissing, still claiming. Then, gently, slowly, he pulled away and straightened on the sofa, adjusting his hold around Emily as she clung to him still.

He reached out, tucked the hair behind her ear, pressed a quick kiss against her mouth.

"I need to leave."

Her body stiffened as a look of horror and embarrassment crossed her face. She shifted, tried to climb off his lap. He tightened her arms, cursing himself for saying the wrong thing.

"Non, you misunderstand. I have practice in the morning and then must leave for Sunday's game."

Emily nodded but wouldn't look at him. He could see the flush staining her cheeks, knew she was still embarrassed. Something washed over him, an odd sense of possession he didn't understand. He pushed it away, not wanting to examine it, acknowledge it, just yet. Later, when he was home.

He tucked two fingers beneath her chin and gently turned her head toward him. His gaze caught hers, held it, refusing to let her look away again. "I want to see you again."

He saw the unasked question in her eyes, knew she didn't quite believe him. He pressed another kiss against her mouth and tried to smile. "Monday night. May I see you Monday night?"

"I—" She stopped, pulled her lower lip between her teeth for an agonizing second. Then she finally nodded. "Monday night."

"Good. Very good." He eased her from his lap, swallowed a groan as he stood and tried to adjust himself without being too obvious about it. Then he reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet, walked with her to the door.

One kiss. Just one more. Except one wasn't enough. He pulled away with a silent moan and ran his fingers along her cheek. "Sweet dreams, my Emilie. Until Monday night."

She nodded, still dazed, still looking like she didn't quite believe him. He grinned, offering her a silent promise, then pulled the door closed behind him.

Monday night. It was only three days. Certainly, he could survive three days.