BOOKER

I think I’m holding her too tight and kissing her too hard. But I have been dying to get Lena back in my arms for what seems like half a lifetime. And good God Almighty. Those pretty lips cushion mine even as her plush curves gently give beneath the crush of my harder body. Desire rattles though my bones like a runaway train. But when a sudden thought crops up in the back of my mind, I fight back the mist of animalistic lust that has me in its spell.

Shit. I just grabbed and kissed her without so much as a how’s-about-it-baby. From the first touch of my mouth on Lena’s, I was so consumed with the scent, the feel, the taste of her I have absolutely no impression as to what her feelings regarding my caveman tactics might be.

Yet when I start to lift my head, I feel her plump, pretty arms, which I’m only just now realizing are already twined around my neck, wind tighter still.

And she sighs a long, drawn out, “Oh.”

So, all right, by God, it may be nonverbal but that sounds like a green light to me. Taking full advantage of the small opening her breathy word gives me, I explore the slick inner flesh of her bottom lip with a slow slide of the tip of my tongue. Feeling impatient, on edge, I coax Lena’s lips open wider. I inveigle them even farther apart by nipping her full bottom lip here, helping myself to a tiny suck there. But mostly I just kiss her. Endlessly. Insistently.

I groan when the opportunity finally comes to slip my tongue more deeply into her sweet, sweet mouth. God, but it feels like home.

Lena must think so as well, because her fingers wind through my hair, and she grips handfuls of it with take no prisoners resolve. She opens those satiny, addictive lips a tiny bit wider yet, her tongue rising off the floor of her mouth to duel with mine.

I doubt I could feel the effect of her tongue sliding over mine more explosively were I a fuel barrel she was twirling lighted torches while dancing the Black Bottom atop. I back her up against the closest upright surface. It turns out to be the new electric Frigidaire and her shoulder blades reach its top.

I bury my mouth in the soft, fragrant crook of her neck, my jaw brushing the shoulder it curves into. I need to feel her skin. Blindly seeking it out, I God bless the fad for rolling women’s stockings, as I reach firm bare skin the moment I hit her knees.

I smooth my hands up the warm, smooth backs of her thighs, hiking the skirt of her dress up, filmy fabric pooling atop my forearms as my hands move higher.

And higher.

And higher still.

Until they reach the silky leg openings of what feel like tap pants. Lena sucks in a breath as my fingertips brush beneath a leg opening to trace the crease at the top of her thighs where they meet the sweet curve of her ass.

I groan. Then promptly slip my hands the rest of the way under her French knickers. Hauling her up, I splay my fingers to lightly grip a lush cheek in each hand. My eyes slide closed in sheer appreciation. Of the heat, of the sumptuous feel and weight of the full curves I hold.

Then Lena spreads her legs and sets me on the path to the Promised Land. “Jesus,” I growl, hiking her up until I can press my cock against the soft, hot notch between her legs.

The moment I do so, I hear our urgent, ragged breaths as, together, we sharply inhale. Feel as the insides of her knees grip my hips. Rubbing up against that little piece of heaven at the apex of her fabulous thighs, I smile savagely against her warm-skinned throat as a moan vibrates beneath my lips. I chase the little quiver with the flat of my tongue, which sets off another tremor. Then yet another, fainter one.

For a moment, the room is silent aside from our rough breathing, her faint moans and my own guttural groans. Then the fridge suddenly kicks in, making Lena start. I slowly lift my head.

Hell. We’re in the damn kitchen—not exactly the ideal place for what I have in mind. Reluctantly, I set Lena on her feet again and step back.

Swaying slightly, she blinks up at me. “Booker?”

She looks so damn cute. Those clear blue eyes, rimmed in exotic navy blue, are heavy-lidded. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair’s all mussed and her lips are swollen from my kisses. I sweep her up in my arms.

Where she feels so damn right.

“We need a more comfortable spot.” God, baby, don’t change your mind. Hoping to prevent precisely that, I kiss her again.

Attempting to control a woman through seduction is hardly the stuff of heroes. I’m pretty damn sure, however, I’m gonna lose my mind if Lena decides all this heat between us is going nowhere. And, face it, given her opinion of sex, courtesy of my pitiful teenage performance, that’s a very real possibility.

But when I raise my head once again, she dazzles me with a dreamy smile. And presses an openmouthed kiss against my temple before sliding her lips over to my ear. “Nifty,” she breathes.

I grin so hard I probably look like an escapee from Western State insane asylum, and I take the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. Not an easy feat sporting a raging hard-on, lemme tell you.

Which is why I need to rein things in a bit before I literally go off half-cocked. Lena already believes sex is for the birds. That’s a direct result of my younger self doing precisely what I need to avoid in the here and now. Because, going at her with all the savoir faire of a dog covering a bitch in heat will sure as hell never change her mind and win her heart. I have to be smart about this...which is impossible if I allow my dick to run the show.

When I carry her into my bedroom moments later, low flames are still flickering from the fire I built before we left on our run to the club to fetch Lena’s gift. Firelight infuses the room with a soft, warm glow and creates soothing, ever shifting patterns against the nearest wall. I stride straight over to the bed and toss Lena upon it.

A startled whoop escapes her, then she laughs as she lands in a sprawl on her back. She promptly wings her arms and legs in and out against my spread.

“Are you making a snow angel on my bedspread?” I demand, biting back the huge laugh fighting to escape me at her antics.

Only to have Lena immediately stop. “Nooo.” She shoots me a sheepish smile. Strokes her hands against the spread with such sensuality I’m dying to feel them bestow the same attention to my body. “Well, maybe,” she amends.

Then she laughs with uninhibited gusto. “Okay, fine, I am. The minute I saw this beautiful thing, I wanted to fling myself down and make a snow angel to feel its satiny, silky fabric against as much of me as possible. And oh, my gosh, Booker. It is every bit as grand as it looks!”

“And you look mighty fine lying on it, baby.” On my hands and knees, I prowl up from the end of the bed to join her on the bedspread, rolling onto my side next to her. I prop myself up on a forearm. Now that Lena’s brought up the subject, I realize the bedspread really is a sensual treat. I can’t believe I never truly appreciated just how much of one before this morning. I smile down at her. Hook a rogue hair off her cheek with my unoccupied hand. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hi, yourself, handsome.”

I bend my head to kiss her neck once more, and smile against her soft skin when she lifts her chin to give me better access and more room to move. Pushing back again, I track my gaze from the neckline of Lena’s chiffon dress to her T-strap shoes. “When the hell did you get this body?” My hand outlines her curves an inch or so above her body. “You weren’t built anything like this back in Walla Walla.”

Lena snorts. “They didn’t starve us at the Blood of Christ, but they sure could have shown a little more Christian charity in the size of their portions. Although, to be honest, the flavor—or lack of it—doesn’t really support the larger portions idea.” She grimaces. “Truth is, until I started spending time with you and Will, I had no idea how good food could taste. But once I was exposed to honest to God flavor and pleasing textures—well, let’s just say the minute I left the B of C, I started seeking out more of it. I ate what I wanted to eat instead of tolerating slop like the foundling home served up.” She gives a flat on her back little shimmy. Flashes me a grin that takes my breath away. “And as anyone can plainly see, I ate a great deal more of it.”

Lena shoves up onto her elbows, a position that thrusts her breasts out. To stop myself from getting grabby, I sit up and slide down the mattress to kick off my shoes. I remove hers, as well—then unfasten her left silk stockings and slide it down her leg and off over her foot. I stretch back up to press a kiss to the soft, firm skin I just bared. Then reach for her right stocking.

“In order to make a living while waiting to get my first singing gig in the lounge I was interested in,” she continues breathlessly, “I waited tables at a few restaurants.” Throwing her head back, she laughs in that way I remember, full-throated and without a speck of self-consciousness. “Heck, I waitressed while waiting to get my second, third and fourth gigs, as well.”

Freeing an arm, she smooths her hand over a rounded hip. “The food was grand, and little by little all of it seemed to land on my breasts, hips and butt.”

Lena glances away, for the first time looking self-conscious and without a second thought, I abandon her second stocking down around her ankle to sit up and pay attention. An instant later, however, she returns her gaze to my face. “It made me wonder what my mother’s figure was like. Was she built the way I am now, do you suppose? Or was she more like I was back in Walla Walla? Or, heck, I could take after my father’s mother or an aunt for all I know.” Lena looks wistful for a moment, no doubt at the idea of relatives somewhere. Then she shrugs.

I return to my previous position alongside her on the bed and pull her onto her side to face me. “Whoever the hell you take after, I doubt she was anywhere near as perfect as you are.”

“Aww.” Lena presses her cheek against my chest.

“I’m serious,” I insist, because I am. Dead serious. “You were beautiful then and you’re even more so now.”

Slinging an arm around my neck, Lena pushes up onto her other forearm. All those lush curves coming to rest against me radiate a heat that sinks clear down to my bones.

Then she raises her head. And kisses me.

And this time it’s filled with some pretty damn serious intent.