Westmoreland's Way - Brenda Jackson [30]
And to kiss her.
She had a feeling he knew it. He probably had detected that fact by the way she was breathing, or by the way she was now looking up at him as he moved down the stairs toward her. No doubt it wasn’t just one, but all of those things. And really, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was intuitive enough to pick up on what she wanted and needed, and as soon as he joined her on the bottom floor, he placed his hands at her waist and pulled her into his arms. Before she could draw in her next breath, he leaned down and connected his mouth to hers.
Dillon figured he could stand there and sip on her all night.
Then, maybe not.
Plummeting into her mouth, tasting her like this, with such intensity, such greed and hunger, was making his entire body throb. Desire as thick as it could get, was spreading through him at a rate he could barely control.
He shifted his body, needing her to feel how aroused he was, which equated to just how much he wanted her. And just how much he needed her. He knew she was getting a clear picture when she wrapped her arms around his neck and shifted her body, adjusting it to his so that his erection was resting between the juncture of her thighs. And damn, it felt just like it was where it belonged, he thought.
Well, not quite.
Where it really belonged was deep inside of her. Hell, he was a man, a Westmoreland at that. He knew his male brothers and cousins that he’d grown up with, and he had met the male cousins from Atlanta. So there was no doubt in his mind they all had something in common when it came to basic primitive instincts. They all enjoyed making love to women.
He could imagine taking her all over the place. He wanted to make love to Pam in every room and every single position he could think of and then some. He could certainly get creative rather quickly. But first, this way, starting at her mouth, kissing her with a yearning that made him wonder where in hell a damn bed was when you needed one.
As if she sensed his agitation and the reason for it, she pulled her mouth away, took hold of his hand and led him through an area that looked like a soap-opera film set. They walked through a living room and dining room, caught a glimpse of a kitchen before going around a movable wall that led to a bedroom, one that was decorated with billowy white curtains at a fake window.
On a shuddering sigh she stopped by the bed, and Dillon gazed deep into her eyes. He could tell that she was about to get all nervous on him and decided to say the same words he’d spoken earlier that day. Words she seemed to understand and accept. “You give. I take. No regrets.”
She stared at him for a moment and then he watched as her mouth curved into an easy smile. They would go through with their plans for tonight. No questions asked, no discussions needed. The main thing on his mind was getting inside of her, feeling her wetness surround him, clench him and milk him, which made him decide there was one subject open for discussion and he would initiate it. Birth control.
“I brought condoms,” he said, patting the pocket of his slacks. There was no need to tell her just how many since it might scare her.
“And I’m on the pill.” She bit nervously on her bottom lip and then added, “And I am not sleeping with Fletcher. I’ve never slept with him, in case you’re wondering about that for health reasons.”
Fletcher.
It was only then that he remembered the other man, which made him glance down at her hand. She had taken the ring off again. He wondered why she and her fiancé had never been intimate. Not that he was complaining.
He truly believed she was not a woman who could be in love with one man and sleep with another. That meant there was something about her engagement to Mallard that wasn’t on the up-and-up. Sooner or later he intended to get some answers. But not now.
The only thing he wanted to get right now was some of her.
He suddenly detected that her scent had changed and, like a man acutely honed