Thorn's Challenge - Brenda Jackson [38]
“Is there something wrong, Thorn?”
Yes, there’s a lot of things wrong, and two years of abstinence heads the list, he thought. He reached down within to drum up some self-control that he didn’t think he had. “No, there’s nothing wrong. Show me the way,” he said.
He inhaled slowly as he followed her up the stairs and almost choked on his own breath when he walked into her bedroom. It was decorated in black, silver-gray and mauve, and everything matched—the floral print on the bedcovers, curtains and the loveseat. The room looked like her, feminine and sensuous. Even the huge bed looked like a bed intended for lovemaking more than for sleeping. He could imagine rolling around the sheets with her in that bed.
“The bathroom is this way.”
He quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he followed her into the connecting bathroom.
“Do you need my help with anything?” she asked, leaning against the vanity.
His gaze moved from her face to her chest, settling on what could be seen of her breasts through the thin material of her top. At the moment, the only thing she could do for him was to give him breathing space. “No, I’ll be fine. Just give me a couple of minutes.”
“All right. I’ll be in my bedroom if you need anything.”
He lifted a brow. He’d much prefer it if she went downstairs to the kitchen, as far away from him as she could, but he decided not to tell her that. After all, it wasn’t her fault that he wanted to jump her bones.
As soon as she left, he went about checking out her faucet while trying to ignore the sound of her moving around in the bedroom. It didn’t take him any time at all to repair the faucet and he was glad of that. Now he could concentrate on getting the hell out of here. He worked his way from under her sink and stood. It had been rather quiet in her bedroom for the past couple of minutes and he hoped she was downstairs.
Wrong.
He walked out of the bathroom and saw her standing on the other side of the room wearing nothing but her skimpy top and a pair of black thong panties. Her back was to him, and as soon as he cleared his throat she snatched a short silk robe off the bed and quickly put it on.
Too late. He had seen more than he should have.
“Sorry. I thought you would be a while and decided to change into something comfortable,” she said, apologetically, looking down as she tied the belt of her robe around her waist.
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. All he could think about was just how much of her naked skin he had seen. Damn, she looked good in a thong. His entire body began aching.
“Is it fixed?”
Her question reminded him why he was there, but couldn’t quite bring him back around. His mind was still glued to the bottom part of her although she was now decently covered. But nothing could erase from his memory what he had seen.
“Well, is it?”
He slowly moved his gaze up to her face, and without thinking twice about what he was doing, he placed his toolbox on the table in her room and quickly crossed the space separating them. He stood staring at her then took her mouth with his, and she didn’t try to resist when he thrust his tongue between her lips, tasting her with a force that shook him to the very core. And when he felt her return his kiss, mating her tongue with his, he totally lost it and began feasting greedily on her mouth.
He felt her tremble as he slid his hand down her body, reached under the short robe, spread her legs apart and then begin moving his hand between them, needing to touch her in the same intimate way he had done before.
Moments later he discovered that wasn’t enough. He had to have her. He needed to ease his thick, hot arousal into the very place he was touching.
With his free hand he began undoing his zipper while his mouth continued to plunder hers. Suddenly, she broke off the kiss.
“Thorn, we can’t. No protection. The race.”
Sanity quickly returned to Thorn with her words. He breathed in deeply and took a step back and rezipped his pants. For a moment he hadn’t cared about anything. Nothing had mattered, definitely not the fact