She chanced another glance at Noah behind the wheel of the car. He seemed to be driving with a single-minded urgency.
She couldn’t believe she’d brought the mighty Noah Whittaker to the edge this way. Then again, not too long ago, she wouldn’t have been able to imagine wanting to.
She stifled a nervous giggle.
He took his eyes off the road for a second. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“You,” she said. “Driving as if your life depended on it.”
“Laugh while you can.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Soon, very soon, baby, you’ll be having a different reaction.”
“Promises, promises,” she retorted, even as she felt her face heat.
He looked at her again as they pulled up in front of the resort. “I can’t remember the last time I was this desperate for someone.”
Her heart lifted at his words. “Me, too.”
They were like two teenagers as they strode across the lobby of the resort and into an elevator.
Once inside their hotel suite, Noah locked the door behind them, gave her a slow smile, backed her up against the wall and proceeded to claim possession of her mouth.
She sighed. He smelled of sand and surf and male.
Cupping her face with his hand, he pressed down on her chin with his thumb, opening her mouth wider and sinking more fully into their kiss.
She couldn’t get enough of him. Their mouths met, angled, then feasted some more. He sipped at her bottom lip, sucking on its plump softness before his tongue slipped inside her mouth, lazily probing.
The kiss went on and on, gaining urgency as she molded herself to him. She moaned low in her throat, holding him close as the headiness of sensation swirled around them.
When he lifted his head, it was to place light, feathery kisses on her lips, her eyelids and along the curve of her jaw. “Do you know how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you until now?” he muttered, his voice husky.
“Mmm,” she said, her eyes closed, feeling him everywhere. “Then why did you?”
His laugh held a note of self-mockery. “Trying to prove to you that I wasn’t untrustworthy.”
She found it hard to think when his hand was kneading her breast through the material of her bikini and sleeveless blouse. “Hmm,” she said, opening her eyes. “Seduce me, and I’ll let you know whether you’ve lived up to my evil thoughts.”
He laughed softly. “Are you inviting me to do my diabolic best?” he asked, his breath fanning her ear.
“Or worst,” she heard herself say even as a voice in her head screamed, Stop talking and take me! “It depends on your perspective.”
He stifled a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much while trying to get a woman into bed.”
“Neither have I.” She tried to clear her head. “I mean, while trying to get a man into bed.”
Actually, she couldn’t recall ever requesting before that a man make love to her—let alone seducing him into bed—but why quibble with details? Especially when she was concentrating on his hands at the buttons of her blouse, which hit the floor seconds before he disposed of his T-shirt.
She drank in the sight of him shirtless, a familiar sight from the past forty-eight hours, but one she could now openly admire instead of stealing surreptitious looks at. His chest was all hard planes and lean, sculpted muscle, his navel dusted with hair just a couple of shades darker than that on his head.
She let her hands trail over his smooth, tanned skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this since yesterday,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Touch you.”
“Yes.” He said the word fervently, his hands tightening on her waist. “Touch me.”
Below the waistband of his shorts, his arousal pressed against his zipper. She stroked upward.
“Ah, Kayla.” The words were torn from him. “I want you so much.”
He raked her with a hot gaze as he unsnapped his shorts and let them drop, so that only his swim trunks remained. A second later, he had her skirt pooled at her feet, so that only her bikini was left. “That bikini has been torturing me all day.”
She’d never felt sexier than at that moment, knowing he wanted her with a keen need.
Before now, she’d never considered herself the type to make men weak. She knew she had some nice features, and, as a curvy blonde, was some guys’ ideal, but she’d always been too straight-laced and serious to consider herself the bombshell type.
Noah, though, made her feel gloriously sexy.
His hands came up to cup her br**sts and his thumbs stroked her distended ni**les through the nylon of her bikini top.
A moan escaped her and her eyelids felt heavy. Hot, throbbing need coursed through her and settled like a dull ache at the juncture of her thighs.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice deep with need.
“Watch me make love to you.”
She forced herself to focus on his face, which was tight with arousal. He bent his head and sipped from her lips, teasing her, as his hands began to explore her barely-clothed body.
His touch was light and fleeting, yet infinitely arousing. “Your skin is incredibly soft and smooth,” he muttered.
“Moisturizer,” she said inanely.
He chuckled, then kissed the side of her mouth. “All over?” His hand went to the juncture of her thighs and cupped her there. “Damp,” he breathed in her ear.
Her eyes closed. She couldn’t help herself. He was doing incredible things to her. His touch sure, deft…wicked.
“And it’s got a lovely sun-kissed tone.”
“Hmm?”
She heard his husky laugh. “Your skin. It’s beautiful, like the rest of you.”
Her eyes fluttered open again. “Cuban roots—thanks to my grandmother. I don’t need a tan, but getting one will deepen the golden tone. It helps,” she said, struggling to stay focused as he continued to rain kisses on unexpected places, “when you need to socialize with the summer-house set…and can’t afford a real vacation…and fear sunlamps.”
“Ah.” His lips trailed across her jaw to her ear. His hand moved, cupped her rear end and brought her snug against him. “Remind me to thank your grandmother.”
She moved against him and heard him groan, then gasped as he nibbled at her neck. “Noah…”
He lifted his head, his lips hovering above hers. “You called?” he breathed.
“Yes.” Her eyes drifted closed as he bent closer. The kiss, when it came, was searing, deep and demanding.