About the Baby. Tracy Wolff
fact that every instinct he had was pushing at him to stay exactly where he was, he reluctantly pulled away.
Though every cell in his body screamed for another, longer taste of her, he figured he should check with Kara first. Make sure she was okay with this—or at the very least, not planning to smash her fist into the side of his head for overstepping his boundaries.
“What…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed shaky fingers to her mouth. When he didn’t answer—he couldn’t because he had no idea what to say—she tried again. “What was that?”
Any hope that she felt the same way he did dissipated under the shocked weight of her question. “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping away from her. “Maybe we can chalk this up to too much champagne?”
“Neither of us has had a drink in hours.”
“The stars?” He pointed toward the skylight above her bed.
“We already discussed the fact that there aren’t any.”
“Could you at least work with me here?” he finally asked her. “I’m grasping at straws.”
“I can tell.” She inched closer to him, pressing forward so that her chest brushed lightly against his. Heat streaked through him all over again. “The question is why you feel the need to?”
“I already apologized. I’m not sure what else to say.” He looked down at her, tried to gauge her mood. She was looking up at him so that her full lips were a scant few inches from his own. As she exhaled, he could feel her warm breath brush over him.
His entire body tightened at the sensation, until the simple act of breathing hurt. He wanted another sample of her, wanted to delve inside her mouth and explore the taste and scent and touch of her until he’d satisfied the craving that had been years in the making.
He tightened his hands into fists, fought the desire back. His temper tantrum about her leaving for Eritrea had already put them on shaky ground. Kissing her had made things even less stable. Doing it again might send her running. After all, she’d done her level best to ignore the kiss they’d shared in the park. For her to run from him was the absolute last thing he wanted. He’d rather have Kara’s friendship than nothing at all.
“Who says you have to say anything? It was just a kiss, right?”
“Yeah.” He forced the words out between clenched teeth. “Just a kiss.”
“I mean, it’s not like you really laid one on me or anything.” She leaned in even closer.
He couldn’t help wondering what kind of kisses she was used to if she qualified what had passed between them as just a kiss. Maybe he’d underestimated old Mike.
The thought of Mike made him angry and he stepped back from her. Tried to turn away. The last thing he needed right now was to hear about other, better kisses she’d received from men she was more sexually attracted to than him.
She moved with him, though, as he retreated one step, two, until his back was—literally—against her bedroom wall. The warning bells he’d heard in the park had returned and they were clanging at top volume. But the fact that all the blood in his body had rushed about three feet south of his head made it impossible to pay any attention to them at all.
“It’s not,” she continued her earlier train of thought, “like you did this.”
And then she was kissing him, her lips soft and warm and open against his own.
For a full five seconds, he did nothing, just stood there like a total loser as her lips moved slowly against his. And then reality dawned and he caught fire. Slipping a hand behind her head, he tangled his fingers in her heavy curls and pressed her mouth more firmly against him. Then he pulled her lower lip into his mouth and nibbled softly.
She gasped, laughed a little, then wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with an exuberance that delighted him.
He ran his tongue over her lips, exploring the bow-shaped indention in her upper lip that had driven him crazy for more years than he wanted to admit. Then he moved on to the full curve of her lower lip and the tender corners of her mouth. She tasted so good, felt so good, that he wanted to go on kissing her forever.
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