Free License to Love by Barbara Boswell Page B

closed.
    Steve’s movements were slow and assured as he drew her back against the cushions. He cupped her cheek with his palm, his fingers moving rhythmically, erotically, as he brushed her lips with his once more. “Sitting there in that restaurant tonight,” he breathed the words softly, seductively, as his mouth continued its languid, confident caresses of her lips, her cheeks, the curve of her jaw. “I wanted to touch you so much.”
    His hand, which had been resting on her shoulder, slid down her back and began to knead the hollow of her waist. He spread his fingers to span the flatness of her belly to the underside of her breast. Michelle felt a dizzying heat erupt within her. The tips of his fingers seemed to be sending sparks of electricity to her every nerve ending. Reflexively she crossed her legs and leaned closer to him, mindlessly seeking the source of that heady male warmth.
    With amazing dexterity, Steve’s hands moved and shifted so that one was stroking the silky length of her thigh, exposed as her short skirt skimmed higher, while his other hand captured her nape, holding her to receive the full, firm descent of his mouth.
    Michelle waited achingly as shudders of desire chased along her spine. She had never been aroused so swiftly, so hotly. Dazed and yearning, she did not think to credit his expert technique for the wild sensations leaping to life within her. She believed them to be a result of her own emotions, her feelings for him, feelings she’d been fighting all evening. Now, in his arms, every ardent, expectant part of her gave up the fight.
    “I’ve been wanting to taste you,” Steve murmured huskily as he finally, masterfully, took possession of her mouth.
    Her lips opened under his as her arms slid slowly around his neck. His tongue slipped into her mouth to explore the inner softness and Michelle clung to him, drowning in the kiss that grew deeper and hungrier. Still, she ached for an even deeper closeness. There was a rightness in the way he held her, a rightness in the way they were kissing. It was as if she had been waiting her whole life for him and for this sweet, burgeoning passion that flared between them.
    Her body arched into his hands and she whispered his name. A deep, primal growl rumbled in Steve’s throat, a mating sound, one that he could not control. It shook him, that sudden explosive loss of control. His breathing was fast and shallow and his entire body ached and throbbed with intense sexual need. He’d never gotten so excited so fast— and simply from kissing, too.
    What had started as a light, playful experimental kiss, begun more to satisfy a certain curiosity than compelled by a driving force, had swiftly, irrevocably turned into something else entirely. Something beyond his ken, beyond his control.
    He felt like a match striking tinder, his body igniting into flames as Michelle first yielded to his kiss, then became an active participant, kissing him back with an ardor that sent wildfire ripping through him. When she clung to him and moved sinuously, sensuously against him, her sweet mouth open and hungry under his, a hot fierce pressure built and grew explosively inside him.
    Unable to hold back, he slid one big hand down the wide neckline of her dress. He encountered the silk and lace of her bra but did not let that impede him. His fingers slipped inside to cup her bare breast beneath the material. He caressed the rounded softness, drawing breathless little gasps from her.
    Michelle’s eyes were tightly closed and she moaned softly as he rubbed her nipples into taut buds of fire. She twisted restlessly, trembling at the wild sensations his touch aroused. It felt so good; she didn’t want him to stop. When he withdrew his hand, she whimpered in protest.
    “Easy, baby,” Steve soothed, his voice deep and rasping. “Let’s get you out of this.” He smoothed his hands over her back, looking for a zipper or buttons and finding neither. Frustration seared him.