The Look of Love Page 26


“I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me. All day long I’ve wanted you to kiss me.”

* * *

Chase took her hand, hurried up the front steps, and kicked open the front door, not stopping in the living room even though it meant waiting another few seconds for the pleasure he’d been craving. He wanted her in a bed, the way he’d been picturing her for forty-eight straight hours, naked and flushed with desire—and pleasure—for him.

In the end it felt like hiking halfway across the county just to get to the bedroom, but then—finally!—they were inside the room. Chase closed the door and locked it, before forcing himself to drop her hand and to step back a few inches.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

She hadn’t hesitated, but still he had to say, “Absolutely certain?”

“Yes.”

Again, there was no hesitation, only a growing irritation in her eyes that he was stalling. But he cared about her too much to do anything to hurt her.

“Once we start, I’m not going to be able to stop. I want you too badly.”

At that, the faint irritation in her eyes was pushed aside by need, her eyes dilating at the force of her arousal.

He didn’t want to scare her—didn’t ever want her to be scared again—but she needed to know. “This is your last chance to change your mind.”

Before he could take his next breath, her fingers threaded into his hair and her mouth was on his, her tongue pushing against his. He lifted her into his arms and moved to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers for a second. There was no finesse, no gentleness in their kisses.

How could there be when they were both pure need?

Just that quickly, all thoughts of honor were forgotten. All that mattered was Chloe. Worshiping her body.

And loving her.

Chapter Nine

Chloe could hardly believe she was lying on the bed looking up at a sinfully gorgeous man as he pulled his T-shirt off and threw it on the floor. Seeing all those muscles, his incredible washboard abs, all but paralyzed her.

She’d never seen anyone like Chase, live and in person, before.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized they were coming.

He responded by moving over her on the bed, placing his hands on either side of her face, and kissing the rest of the breath from her lungs. One of his legs came between hers and she couldn’t stop herself from closing her legs around him and thrusting her hips up against his taut thigh muscles.

She was already so close, knew she could probably come with nothing more than another one of his mind-blowing kisses and the friction of his thigh against her.

“Chloe.” Her name was a whisper of need from his lips to hers and before she knew it, he had her T-shirt and jeans off. When she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties—thank God she’d at least kept her nice lingerie from her earlier life—he shifted away to stare at her.

She knew she wasn’t nearly as thin as the models he worked with, knew that her body wasn’t perfect, not by any means…but, amazingly, she could tell that Chase didn’t care.

He liked her just the way she was.

“Jesus, Chloe. You’re killing me here.” He reached out and ran one slow finger from her chin down her neck, making her arch into his hands as he trailed his gentle, heated touch down to the valley between her br**sts. “You’re so damned lovely.”

“You’ve already seen my body,” she reminded him.

“Not like this. I couldn’t touch you, then.” His eyes lifted from her curves to her face. “I couldn’t kiss you the way I wanted to kiss you.”

How did he manage to keep stealing her breath when she was beyond certain that he’d already stolen it away just moments before?

“Show me. Show me how you wanted to kiss me.”

She could have sworn a growl rumbled in his chest as he slid one hand into her hair, the other beneath her hips to press her more firmly against him.

His mouth was hot, yet gentle, over hers—that first, desperate rush to have each other turning into such sweetness, such joy as he tasted every inch of her lips with his, pressing soft kisses into the corners, the flesh at the center, the cupid’s bow of her upper lip. And then his tongue licked along the curve of her lips, a slow, sensuous journey that awakened every last cell in Chloe’s body. Until, finally, he dipped his tongue in between her teeth and she met him halfway, taking everything he was giving her and returning it multiplied.

Her entire body had turned soft, pliant against him, and she could feel herself throbbing between her legs.

“Please,” she whispered when he lifted his head so that they could draw some oxygen into both their lungs, “I need—”

She hadn’t put words to her desire for so long that she found the words drying up on her tongue.

“Will you trust me, Chloe?”

She wished she didn’t have to think about it. But she did. Trust wasn’t just something she could give out easily anymore. “I want to.”

His smile warmed her from head to toe before he pressed a kiss just below her earlobe. “Wanting to is a perfect place to start.”

Loving the fact that he wasn’t pressuring her to try and give him something she wasn’t capable of giving, as he shifted again on the bed and began to run his tongue across the swell of one breast, she let loose a low moan of pleasure.

From one to the other, he didn’t rush, didn’t hurry despite the desperate little sounds she was making. The look he gave her was more than a little wicked when he lifted his head from her chest.

She opened her mouth to tell him what she needed, opened her mouth to speak, but again, the words wouldn’t come.

“Never be scared to tell me what you need. What you want.”

“More.” The one word was all she could get out.

His response to her request was to brush the pad of his thumb over one of her and she actually gasped at the sensation.

She’d never known a smile could be so full of desire until she looked into his eyes. He touched her br**sts again and this time she instinctively arched into his hand, saying, “Yes. Please. More of that.”

His hands moved behind her back, and then he was pulling her bra off and the air felt cool on the aroused skin of her br**sts.

“I’ll never, ever get tired of looking at you.” Even though his hands were large, her br**sts overflowed them. “I’ll never stop wanting to touch you.”

Prev Next