Emily swallowed and realized that she was still holding his hands. Realized that her fingers had begun to stroke the back of his palms.
Realized that she wanted him.
Following Colin had been a mistake. “I-I should let you—” Do what? Finish stripping? The mental image that immediately flashed through her mind sent a wave of heat spiraling between her thighs. “Umm, I’ll wait in the den.” She was definitely sex deprived.
One look at a man’s chest and she was reduced to a stuttering mess.
Emily forced her hands to release his. The water still flowed behind her, and the sound seemed strangely loud in the small room.
She stepped to the side, intending to go, to collect her lost dignity as best she could.
“Don’t run from me, Doc.”
“I-I’m not running.” Just walking—okay, creeping—away from the half-naked man who was making her very, very nervous.
His hands lifted, curled around the frames of her glasses, then slowly lifted them off her.
Emily blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden change. Colin stared down at her, and his eyes—they were filled with hunger.
For her.
“I’m not going to do it this time, Doc.” He was staring at her lips now. Gazing at her with those hot, shining blue eyes.
Was it her imagination or were his eyes really, really bright right then?
His words registered after a heartbeat of time, and she didn’t understand. “Do what?”
His arms snaked out, caught her around the middle, and pulled her ever closer to his body. She was trapped now, caged between the bathroom sink and Colin’s equally hard body.
“Kiss you.” He leaned forward, and his breath blew lightly against her. “I’m not going to kiss you. Unless you ask.”
His lips were so close to hers. So close. But she hadn’t come into the bathroom for this, hadn’t followed him inside because she wanted him, had she?
“Come on, Doc. It won’t be as hard as you think.” There was nowhere for her to go, but Emily still tried to stumble back. She slipped against the edge of the sink.
Colin caught her before she fell. Lifted her up, sat her on the cold, granite vanity. Her legs were spread, and he inched forward, pushing right between them. The thick length of his aroused flesh pressed against her. The hard muscles of his thighs seemed to burn Emily through her clothing. She squirmed against him, and instead of working herself free, she just rubbed against him, rubbed against that heavy arousal.
Her sex clenched as a wave of raw hunger rocked through her. No, this isn’t what I planned.
But it was exactly what she wanted.
“Do it.” His voice was a rough rumble of temptation. His fingers were locked around her waist. She wanted him to lift his hands and cup her br**sts. To push her shirt aside and take her ni**les into his mouth.
“Ask for my kiss…” His breath blew against her lips.
She could already taste him. Her lips trembled, parted, and she heard herself whisper, “Kiss me.” But she wasn’t asking. She was demanding.
For an instant, his lips curled in a satisfied smile, but then the hunger in his eyes flared even brighter. His fingers tightened around her.
And his lips claimed hers.
He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t cautious.
His lips took. His tongue probed, drove deep into her mouth. He tasted, seduced, claimed.
A growl sounded low in his throat. The sound was stark, animalistic. It should have scared her. He should have scared her.
But the sound just made her hotter. Made the liquid heat between her thighs pulse even more.
Her hands were wrapped around his arms, digging into the tight muscles of his biceps. Her mouth was open wide, her tongue rubbing, thrusting against his.
She loved the way he kissed her. Hard. Hot. Wild. Yes, most definitely wild.
He kissed her like he couldn’t wait to get her naked beneath him. Kissed her like he had to have her.
Kissed her like no other man ever had.
His fingers brushed against the underside of her br**sts. They rose slowly, then his hands were cupping her, his thumbs brushing against her ni**les.
His mouth continued to feed on hers. His fingers—long, strong fingers—stroked her br**sts, teased the aching peaks of her ni**les.
She tore her mouth from his, moaning softly. She was still sitting on the sink. Her legs were spread wide. His thick arousal pushed against her. Her fingers itched to touch him, to stroke him.
This isn’t like me. Emily fought to regain her control in the maelstrom of lust that was overwhelming her. She wasn’t one to be driven wild with passion. Not her. Never her.
She was the calm one, the controlled one, the six-dates-before-third-base one.
But there was something about Colin, something that was driving straight past her barriers.
“I want to feel you,” he muttered, the words hard, nearly indistinct. He caught the hem of her shirt, jerked it up and over her head.
Colin tossed the shirt onto the floor. She heard the soft swish as it hit the tiled floor.
He was touching her now. Skin to skin. His warm fingers, slightly rough, were smoothing up her abdomen, inching closer to her br**sts.
A thin black bra covered her. Her br**sts pushed against the silky fabric.
Colin licked his lips.
Emily knew she should stop him. The logical part of her mind was screaming at her to push him away.
Not the time. Not the time.
Things were moving too fast between them. But, God, she wanted him to touch her.
She wanted to let go of her control for just a moment. She wanted to feel.
Yes, part of her was screaming that she should push him away, but part of her was also demanding that she pull him even closer.
His fingers slipped under the edge of her bra. Stroked, then found her ni**les. The nubs were tight, hungry, and when he shoved the bra to the side and lifted her br**sts in his hands, she could see the dark pink of her aroused flesh.
“I’ve got to taste you.”
His head lowered toward her breast. His mouth opened; she felt the hot stir of his breath against her, then his tongue, God, his tongue swirled around the areola. A long, teasing lick that had every muscle in her body tightening.
“Oh, that’s good.” He drew in a deep breath, then his tongue rubbed against her nipple. “Damn good.” He took her breast into his mouth, sucking strongly, drawing the peak deep inside and using his tongue, his teeth.
Her hands rose, fisted in his hair. She pulled him tighter to her, loving the demanding pull of his mouth.
Her hips were rocking against his cock. Riding him. She could feel a warm wetness on her panties. Damn. When was the last time she’d gotten turned on like this? So fast?