Turn Up The Heat. Victoria Dahl
curled her toes with a soft, damp kiss to her throat. “I want you to know that.”
Surely that wasn’t true. He couldn’t want to hear of her reservations, or the past that had stalled her sexual curiosity, or the broken engagement that had left her humiliated and defeated—
“Tell me,” he insisted while still tasting her skin.
Knowing she had to say something, Merrily drew a breath. “I’m not quite ready yet.”
Leaning back to see her, he asked gently, “For a kiss?”
Was he mocking her? Oh, he’d said that seriously enough, but something close to amusement showed in his dark eyes, and a secret little smile played with the corners of his sexy mouth.
“A kiss is okay,” she assured him. “Great even. It’s just that I—”
“Thank God.” He put his mouth to hers again, this time more firmly, lingering, moving.
Her heart thundered even as he eased away again.
“Okay?”
She nodded fast.
“How about this?” He turned his head a little, moved his lips over hers until he’d nudged them apart, then touched with his tongue.
A rush of heat stole through her. “Yes.” She clutched at his shirt and, lips parted, went to her tiptoes to make that amazing contact with his tongue again. He tasted so good, smelled delicious and felt...amazing.
Suddenly everything moved, and then her back was to the door, Brick pressed up against her, his hands holding her face, his fingers in her hair.
“And this?” he asked in a husky whisper that brushed her damp lips.
She barely had time to note the rough rasp of his voice before he took her mouth in a deep, hot, tongue-twining kiss that left her knees weak and her body taut. Against her breasts, she felt the pounding of his heartbeat, and against her belly... Oh. Hello.
He ended the kiss as if it took a great effort. “Damn.”
She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into her starved lungs. She’d known other men—but none like him.
She’d been kissed before—but never like that.
Hands still knotted in his shirt, she whispered, “What’s wrong?” It startled her, hearing that breathy little wisp of sound in place of her own voice.
“Around you, I’m trigger happy.” He kissed her again, short and sweet, then put another kiss to her cheekbone, one to her temple. “What is it about you, Merrily?”
Not understanding, she shook her head. “Trigger happy?”
His half laugh turned into a short groan. “I think about you, and I get a boner. Kissing you damn near puts me over the edge. It’s insane.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she assimilated the meaning behind the words. She’d felt the...boner, of course. No missing that. Was he saying that was unusual for him?
Pressing into him, Merrily relished the feel of his excitement. For her. “Brick...”
Breathing roughly, he caught her hips in his big hands, briefly caressed them, and then held her still. “Sorry, honey, but I think we’re moving too fast.”
No way. That was not something men said. Sure, she’d thought it—at first—but now...
“I don’t want to take advantage.”
“You’re not!”
“And,” he said, stressing the word, “given the way Dundee’s jumping against my ass, I think he either wants out, or he wants you to reassure him that you’re kissing me willingly, not under duress.”
Oh, no. Maintaining her hold on Brick’s shoulders, she leaned to look around his side and saw Dundee on his hind legs, his front paws up on Brick. Her mind went blank. “He, ah, isn’t used to guys being here.”
“Doing this to you. I know.” He gave her a quick kiss and released her. “All the more reason to let up on the gas pedal a little.” He turned to the dog. “So what’s it to be, my man? You need to go out?”
Dundee barked and turned a quick circle.
Dolly joined him.
“Do you have leashes for them, or do you just let them out?”
Still in a hazy fog of lust, Merrily said, “Out.”
“Through the kitchen?”
Why did he have to be so lucid and seemingly unaffected when her legs felt too shaky to support her? “To the backyard, yes.”
Reaching out a hand to her, Brick forced her to give up the support of the front door. “Why don’t we go along, get a breath of fresh air and maybe talk a little?”
“Okay, sure. Why not?” Not like they had anything more pressing going on.
Trying to get it together, she walked beside him, but even the way he curled his big hot hand around her fingers affected her. She thought of those hands, twice the size of her own, touching other places on her body, and for once she frowned at her sweet pets. “That damned doggy door would have come in real handy right about now.”
Brick laughed as he led her and the dogs through the kitchen, to the door and out into the backyard. “Look at it this way,” he said. “If the dogs hadn’t interrupted, I might have taken you right there, standing against the front door. And although I’d have loved it, that’s not how your first time should be.”
He gave her a one-armed hug and, with the dogs dancing around him, continued on into the yard to look around.
Merrily remained where he’d left her, frozen, her heart heavy, her vision narrowing.
So he’d heard the rumors. And believed them.
And now, just like her ex, he wanted to be the first.
Unsure what she should do next, she sank down to sit on the back stoop.
* * *
BRICK TRIED TO use the warm, fresh air to clear his head and regain his control, but he wasn’t sure a frigid shower would even do the trick. He felt obsessed with lust for her, and the need wouldn’t abate until he got his fill.
Damn, but he’d been that close to sealing the deal. And like he’d just told her, that wasn’t what she needed, and ultimately, it wasn’t what he wanted.
Or at least, it wasn’t everything he wanted. Not now.
Now...hell, he just didn’t know. He wanted time and plenty of it.
Dundee did a quick job of sprinkling a tree, then grabbed a stick in his teeth and loped over to him.
Grinning, Brick took it from him, waited while Dundee watched in eager expectation and then threw it. The dog charged after it, ears back, legs stretching out.
Dolly yapped at him, so Brick bent to pet her. “No running for you, huh?” He glanced back at Merrily, but she sat on the edge of the small stoop, her hands clasped together between her knees, her expression distant as she stared off at nothing in particular.
Sexual frustration would be new to her. He should probably offer to help her with that—but no, he couldn’t. Just thinking it—how she’d look while grinding out an orgasm, those sexy little sounds women made, how they smelled and tasted—pushed him dangerously close to the edge.
Tense with desire, he threw the stick for Dundee again, picked up Dolly and joined Merrily in the shade of the overhang.
When she said nothing, he considered how to proceed, but he insisted on honesty always. If he was going to do this—and he most definitely would—then he owed her nothing less.
And if the truth had her backing away? He’d figure it