Free Breathe for Me by Natalie Anderson

between her legs, toying in her slickness and heat. She opened her eyes—momentarily embarrassed—until she saw the fierce, pleased look on his face. It made her need multiply.  
    But he dropped to his knees.
    “What are you doing?” she gasped, half stunned, mostly so damn excited.
    He gripped her hip with his hand to hold her still. The other pulled her swimsuit from her skin.
    “I’m going to kiss your lips,” he said, the smile audible in his voice. “I’m thinking French kiss.”
    Oh dear heaven. If he kissed her there now she’d come. This just didn’t happen to her. She’d never gotten turned on by a virtual stranger before. Never went this far this fast with anyone. She’d never let a guy go down on her unless she’d been dating him a while. She wasn’t dating this guy. And yet she wasn’t running—oh no. Not when he touched like this, smiled with those hot ice eyes.
    He bent his head, she felt his warm breath. She braced in anticipation, her burning blood racing in her veins. Only as his mouth got to within touch distance, a loud gurgling sound interrupted.
    OMG. Was that her stomach?
    He laughed and sat back to look up at her face. “Seems you’re starving.” He put both hands back on her waist and stood, leaving her feeling bereft.  
    Because yes she was starving. Her libido had come out of hibernation and realized it hadn’t been fed in a long, long time.
    “You came home for lunch and a quick dip?” he asked.
    She blinked. Could the disappointment be any greater? “I’m working from home today.” She inhaled deeply, trying to regain her control as easily as he had. But it wasn’t anywhere near easy. She wanted that kiss. She wanted to lose herself in that heat.
    “Here are your options,” he said, looking down at her with that devilish blue gaze. “Lunch at one of the restaurants down the street. Or in my apartment. You’ve got one second to choose.”
    “Or?” She eyed him.
    “I choose for you.”
    “You can’t make me go to lunch with you.”
    He went very still. “You ready to find out what I can and can’t make you do?”
    She held his gaze but felt the flush beating its way up her neck and face.
    His smile broadened. “Look at you,” he murmured. “What pictures have you got going in your head?” He nodded, looking as if his thoughts were as wild as hers.
    “Restaurant down the street.” She ignored his whispered wickedness and answered the original question. “But I’m not wearing this.”
    “We’ll stop by your apartment so you can change.”
    “Fine.”  
    She grabbed her towel, glad to turn away and hide her breathlessness. Was she ready? She counted to ten to recapture some calm and think . This was just lunch. Going to lunch was okay. It was part of her progress—her return to some kind of social life. She wasn’t going to go without sex the rest of her life. A mild flirtation with a playboy like this was probably the best thing for her. He’d teach her the rules she needed to master. Because she was never risking her heart in a real relationship again. She didn’t deserve another real relationship.
    “You’re wearing that tee-shirt again.” She glanced as he pulled the tee back on while keeping pace with her dawdle down the stairs.
    “It’s always been a favorite. That’s why it’s the one I grabbed when the alarm went off.”
    “Why such a favorite?”
    “Happy memories.” He smiled. “And now it has even more associated with it.”
    “Oh?”
    “You’re the only woman to have worn it.”
    “I’m so honored,” she said mock seriously.
    “I know you are.” Mock serious right back at her.
    She chuckled even as she shook her head. He was arrogance incarnated.
    There was no chance he’d wait in the corridor. He walked in as soon as she opened up. She half wondered if he was going to pounce the second her door closed. More than half of her wanted him to.
    But he didn’t. He strolled into the center of her small lounge and stared.