LITMIR.BIZ

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      “You do get dirty when you cook, don’t you?” She again stretched up on tiptoe so she could dart her tongue out and lick off the chocolate.

      “You are a very wicked girl.” He dipped a finger into the bowl of whipped cream and spread a smear across her lips. “Oh, dear, look, I’ve made another mess.”

      Lucy reflexively licked at the whipped cream, but Bryan shook his head. “No, no, you’ve missed most of it.” He leaned down and claimed her lips with his.

      The kiss started out light and teasing, but it didn’t stay that way. His mouth went hard, demanding, his breathing harsh and rapid, and Lucy drank it in, his passion elevating hers.

      She hadn’t meant to come in here and seduce him. Not exactly, anyway, but clearly that was what she’d done. And this time they were not in a public place, there was no family nearby. They were in a deserted restaurant with just the heady scents of chocolate and orange surrounding them.

      Bryan’s kisses moved from her mouth to her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. He caressed her breast through the thin warmup. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

      “I dressed in a hurry.” She pulled his hand against her breast again, hungry for the feel of him. She wanted his touch everywhere on her body.

      He slid the zipper on her shirt down, following with a trail of kisses that ended between her breasts. Then he insinuated his hand inside the shirt and eased the fabric aside, bringing her breast out into the light.

      He pushed her up against the Sub-Zero fridge and kissed her breast, first with reverence, then with an increasing hunger. As he suckled, flames of hot desire shot from her breast through her body to the very core of her, and the heat made her whimper with need.

      He peeled off her shirt and then his, fumbling with the buttons in his haste, getting his hand caught in the cuff, tugging until buttons flew off. He pressed his bare chest against hers and groaned.

      “Oh, yes.” The hair on his chest abraded her sensitive nipples, sending more of those white-hot flames licking through her, making her squirm.

      “Lucy, we have to stop.”

      “Oh, no. No, no, no, don’t do this to me.”

      “We don’t have any birth control.”

      “We don’t need it. I have the implant.”

      “Seriously?”

      She went to work on his linen suit pants. “I wouldn’t joke about something like that. Now, make love to me, Bryan Elliott, or that pot of chocolate sauce is going over your head.”

      Seven

      Bryan had always been a man who used his good judgment in all decisions, but he was beyond judgment now. Lucy Miller had just removed the last barrier to their making love. No unforeseen consequences could result from their intimacy.

      He kissed her again, inhaling her. She smelled even better than the chocolate, which would have been a poor substitute for indulging in Lucy.

      “I should take you up to bed,” he whispered.

      “No. You’ll change your mind if I give you even half a chance.”

      “Or you will.” He slid both hands inside the stretchy waist of her warmup pants. She wore only the briefest of thongs under them, which meant her cheeks were bare. He filled his hands with her rounded bottom while he continued kissing her, rubbing up against her small but perfect breasts. Her nipples were hard as glass beads against his chest, and they burned him like a brand.

      She managed to get his pants unfastened and her own hands were as busy as his. She thrust them inside his boxers, groaning as one hand found his arousal.

      “Whoa, Lucy.” He had to distract her or he was going to go off like a defective bottle rocket. He couldn’t recall the last time he was this turned on, possibly never. But he felt as if the foreplay had been going on all evening. Every look she gave him, every innocent or not-so-innocent touch, had led to this.

      He pulled her pants and thong down past her knees in one fluid movement. She gasped in surprise, but she was about to get an even bigger surprise. He leaned down, placed a shoulder against her waist, wrapped his arms around her thighs, and picked her up in a fireman’s carry.

      She squealed in protest. “Bryan, what are you doing? Put me down.” She reached out and slapped at his rear, but it was hardly more than a tap.

      He retaliated with a slightly smarter smack to her bare bottom. “Behave.”

      “Ow!” She laughed. “What are you doing?”

      He carried her only as far as the large counter where the chefs assembled the plates of food just before the wait staff whisked them out to their patrons. “You think you’re the only one who’s allowed to do something outrageous? You think you’re the only one who can seduce?”

      “Oh, Bryan, I didn’t set out to seduce you. Not really.” She wrapped her hands around his head, pressing his face against her breasts, and he didn’t protest. He was in heaven.

      “I was worried about you. You’d been gone so long. If you hadn’t had the whipped cream on your face, this never would have happened.”

      “Well, it did, missy. You started it and I’m going to finish it.” He leaned against her, pushing her until she lay with her back on the counter. Then he stripped her pants and underwear all the way off her feet, pulling off her running shoes in the process. They dropped with a clunk to the floor, and he pulled her knees apart and stepped between her thighs.

      She quivered with anticipation, and he had to admit it would have been easy just to drop his own pants and bury himself in her. He tested her readiness with one finger and felt that she was slick.

      She gasped at his featherlight touch.

      “Please,” she said. “Do it now.”

      Not before he’d tasted her. With his own stomach knotted in anticipation, he leaned down and, using his fingers to open her, lightly grazed her with a flick of his tongue.

      She wiggled and moaned again. “Oh, no, please, no more …”

      “Maybe you’ll think twice before you do that trick with the chocolate sauce again,” he said with a low growl before tasting her once more. He held her hips firmly so she couldn’t wiggle right out of his reach, and he tasted her yet again, drinking more deeply this time, letting his tongue explore.

      Lucy reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Bryan!”

      He did not take pity on her. He waited until he sensed she was verging on the peak of pleasure. Then he raised up, shed his own garments, slid her hips to the edge of the counter and plunged himself into her warmth.

      “Oh!” Lucy cried out. “I can’t—Oh, my—”

      Bryan thrust again, more deeply this time, and again until he was buried to the hilt. She was tight and warm and slick and he was going to lose control of himself. It was too much.

      He felt Lucy’s spasms of ecstasy just before she cried out one last time. Three more hard thrusts, and it was over for him, too, but he’d known he wouldn’t last long inside Lucy. Not with the buildup he’d had over the past hours—hell, the past days.

      Lucy sat up suddenly and, still joined to him, threw her arms around him and kissed him. She clung sweetly to him and rubbed her face against his hair.

      “Please don’t leave me, don’t ever leave me,” she said. “I want to be together like this forever.”

      He thought about telling her how awkward it would be for the chefs to work around them when they came to work tomorrow, but he held his tongue. This wasn’t a moment for humor.

      Lucy might seem strong, but in many ways she was fragile, and he had to remember that. She might have been a bit

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