One Foolish Night Page 4
“Yes, we are. So, tell me, Holly, is there anything in particular I can do for you tonight?” He ran his eyes over her curves, wishing he could take her right here.
Her lashes lowered, but it wasn’t a demure gesture, it was provocative. “You’re already doing it.”
At a red traffic light, Paul brought the car to a stop and rested his foot on the brake. “I can do a lot more,” he promised and leaned across the gap between their seats. “And I wouldn’t mind starting right now.” His gaze dropped to her lips, lips so red and plump, he couldn’t wait to explore them.
“Are you always this impatient?”
Was he? He couldn’t recall. “There are moments in a man’s life when waiting even one second is waiting two seconds too long.”
“And I’m assuming now is one of those moments?” Holly replied, licking her lips, making them even more tantalizing than they already were.
“Kiss me, Holly, before the light turns green.”
Her head moved closer, and then her lips were on his, touching him softly at first. Her sweet breath rushed from her parted lips and bounced against his. He drew the scent into his lungs. His hand came up to slide to her nape, drawing her closer as he slanted his lips and took possession of her mouth.
He’d hungered for this kiss ever since he’d first been introduced to Holly at the rehearsal dinner. He’d wondered what it would be like to finally explore her mouth and feel those full lips press against his. Wondered what it would be like to feel her surrender to him. To feel her shudder in his arms.
The kiss was everything he’d imagined—and more.
The press of her warm lips was determined, the slide of her tongue against his smooth and without hesitation. As if they were lovers already. Yet at the same time, the contact was electrifying, like it always was with someone new and unfamiliar. With every stroke against Holly’s tongue, with every lash against her lips and teeth, he poured into her more of the lust that he’d bottled up inside him for far too long. He hadn’t had an outlet for it. Maybe that was the reason Holly affected him like this.
Or maybe it was simply because she kissed like a woman who knew no boundaries. As though everything was possible, nothing taboo. Not even all the wicked ideas that came to his mind now, the thoughts of how and where he could fuck her, how long he would ride her, how wild their encounter would get. All this because of the way she pressed her alluring body against his while she gave herself over to his kiss. As if he wasn’t a stranger at all, but a lover whom she knew would give her pleasure if only she let him.
Just as he knew that Holly would pleasure him just by allowing him to dive into her body and bury himself so deep inside her that all boundaries would vanish and their bodies would move as one.
Even the kiss was like that: so perfectly in sync were their movements, their strokes, and their caresses that it felt as though they’d done this a thousand times. As if they’d been destined to kiss. He’d never before believed in fate or destiny, but as the kiss turned from passionate to scorching and sent flames shooting through his body that threatened to incinerate him from the inside, he rethought his conviction.
Maybe there was such a thing as fate after all.
A honking sound jerked him from his thoughts and made him release Holly’s lips.
Headlights from a car behind them shone into the interior of his Porsche. Fuck, he hadn’t made out with a woman in a car in years, and he’d completely lost all sense of time and space. If a kiss from Holly could do that to him, what would happen once she was in his bed with his cock buried deep inside her?
He slid back into his seat, waved apologetically to the driver behind him, and pulled through the intersection, speeding up until he’d reached the speed limit.
Only then did he speak again. “If you keep this up, you’re going to be the death of me.”
He gave her a sideways glance. Was Holly as ruffled by the kiss as he?
“I didn’t start it,” she murmured.
He shook his head and let out a soft chuckle. “You did. You propositioned me.” Then he took her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “And had you not done it, I would have asked you to spend the night with me before you had a chance to leave the reception.”
There was no way he would have let an opportunity like this pass him by. Because women like Holly didn’t cross his path every day.
3
By the time Paul pulled into the driveway of a mansion that rivaled the Sinclairs’ house in size and elegance, Holly had managed to slow her heartbeat to near normal. However, her entire body still stood in flames. The memory of Paul’s hard cock pressing against her palm was still fresh, and as real as if she were still touching him through his pants. To say that his size was impressive would have been an understatement. But he wasn’t just big and hard—his shaft had pulsed in her hand as though trying to tell her in Morse code what he desired.