Free Nobody Does It Better by Julie Kenner Page A

don't really know anything about it."
    "No? Too bad. How about kissing?" His eyes bore into her without blinking, his desire obvious but still unspoken. She licked her dry lips and looked at the floor.
    "Kissing?" she repeated stupidly, unable to think of anything else to say. What had seemed like safe territory only a moment ago suddenly seemed dangerous. Wonderfully appealing, but undeniably dangerous.
    Her legs wobbled and the wall no longer seemed capable of holding her up. She stumbled to the bed and sat on the edge, her hands folded primly in her lap, a reminder of what she wasn't going to do with him.
    "I thought we could talk about kissing. Is that okay?"
    She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. But he could talk all night about kissing if he wanted. That wouldn't break any rules.
    Talk? Hell, he could kiss her all night.
    He lowered himself onto the bed next to her, close enough that his taut thigh muscles pressed against her. She focused on taking nice, normal breaths. But the more she tried to ignore his heat against her, the more flustered she became.
    When he leaned back on the bed, she hesitated to look at him. "It's too hard to talk sitting up next to each other. I promise I don't bite."
    She drew a steadying breath and turned her head. He was lounging behind her, propped up on one elbow. He patted the space in front of him. "Come on." Then he grinned, slow and self-assured. "Unless you don't trust yourself with me."
    As a matter of fact, she didn't. Not one bit. But she probably shouldn't mention that. She leaned back and scooted up the bed until her face was even with his. She had to admit it was a much better position for talking. It was a much better position for kissing, too. How convenient.
    "Now, about kissing." With one fingertip, he traced her lower lip. Her pulse throbbed and she tried to steady her breathing. "Did you know that some people think kissing is more intimate than sex?"
    A small sound of interest was the most she could manage.
    "There are times when I think that's right," he said, flashing her a lazy grin. His finger teased her lip, then slid inside her mouth to graze the top of her teeth. She closed her eyes, fighting to keep from closing her lips around his finger.
    "Not that I'm knocking sex, mind you," he murmured. "I certainly can't deny the intimacy of being naked next to a woman who makes your heart pound as it's never done before, sheathing yourself in her, filling her up, taking her places she's never been and watching her skin flush when she finds satisfaction."
    Paris squirmed on the bed, her thighs pressed tight together to try and forestall the liquid urgency that he was creating inside her. She lost the battle with his finger, and closed her lips over him, suckling, hoping that giving in just a little bit would douse the flames that were beginning to consume her.
    Gently, he pulled his finger from her mouth. She heard herself whimper.
    "But a kiss, a kiss can be sweet and gentle. Or hard and desperate. A kiss is fast and hot and deep, or slow and lingering. A kiss is sharing breath and soul."
    Something soft brushed her lips. When his evening beard tickled her cheek, she realized he'd brushed her mouth with a kiss. "Tell me what you think about kissing," he whispered.
    She quaked, imagining his lips on hers, his breath mixed with hers. A piece of his soul. And she so wanted to see into his core. She needed to know if he could really be the man she'd dreamed of.
    " Paris ?"
    She opened her eyes. "Just one kiss." Her voice sounded thick, more sultry than she could ever remember.
    His eyes darkened. Then Paris saw the hint of a smile. She heard his breath coming as uneven as her own. With a low groan, he pulled her across the satiny bedspread into his arms.
    Her breasts pressed hard against his chest, her nipples painfully tight. He took her bottom lip in his mouth and sucked, drawing her blood through her veins with every infinitesimal increase in pressure.
    Wriggling closer,