Chance (The One More Night Series) by Christina Ross Read Free Book Online Page B

in.  And then I saw the arousal in his pants, which set me on fire.  It had been so long since I’d been with a man, I was at once frightened and turned on. 
    But mostly turned on.
    As he came around the coffee table and sat next to me, I adjusted my black dress and pulled my hair away from my face.  He took my drink out of my hand, placed it on the coffee table, and then traced his index finger along the curve of my jawline stopping just beneath my chin, which he gently lifted so he could kiss me on the lips with such passion, it almost took my breath away.
    Instinctively, I met his kiss with a force of my own.  He tasted of Scotch, and despite the ice that had been in his glass, his tongue felt warm and sexy in my mouth.  When his left hand found the nape of my neck, he began to massage it in a slow, subtle way that made my nipples stiffen.  I placed my hand on his inner thigh, and when I did, he covered it with his own and brushed it over his hardness.
    And that’s all it took. 
    “Here or in the bedroom?” he asked.
    “Here.”
    “You can’t wait?”
    “I don’t want to wait.”
    “What do you want me to do to you, Abby?”
    As I held his gaze with my own, my heart started to pound.  “Why don’t you decide?”
    “That’s too easy?  What do you want me to do?”
    “Maybe it’s more a question of what I want to do to you.”
    That surprised him.
    “And what’s that?”
    “I want to remove your shirt.”
    “That’s it?”
    “No,” I said.  “That’s just the start.”
     

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    My hands shook as I started to unbutton his shirt. 
    The fabric was thick and had been starched, but the buttons gave easily, and with each button I unfastened, I saw more of the deep concave in the center of his muscular chest.  When his nipples came into view, they were small, light brown, erect.  I continued down his torso until his thick, corded abs revealed themselves to me. 
    He was naturally hairless, and his skin was so smooth, it rivaled my own.  I tugged on the fabric to release the shirttails from his pants, and when the last button slipped free between my fingertips, I started to pull the shirt over his shoulders.
    But he stopped me.
    “The cuffs,” he said.  “My hands are too large to fit through them without undoing the buttons.  You’ll need to unbutton the cuffs, or this shirt isn’t coming off.  Do you want it off me, Abby?”
    “I do.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I want you.”
    “Why are you shaking?”
    “Because I just don’t do this.”
    “Do what?”
    “Go home with strangers.”
    “Are we still strangers?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Even after our conversation?”
    “Maybe not as much.”
    “Your voice is unsteady.”
    “Nothing about me is steady.”
    “You’re rare, Abby.”
    I didn’t know what he meant by that, or how to respond to it, so I said nothing.
    “It’ll be fine,” he said close to my ear.  “It’ll be wonderful.  You’ll see.  I can already sense it.  Can’t you?”
    I could, but I didn’t answer him.  Instead, I reached for one of his hands to release him from his shirt, and was surprised when he closed his free hand over mine.  In that moment, I swore that I could feel his heart thrumming in his palm.  He was as excited as I was, but was he as nervous?  It was difficult to tell.  He seemed so calm to me.  So confident and in control of the situation.  He was the one who was driving this—I was just his willing passenger, still stunned that I’d been asked to go along for the ride. 
    Right now, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him.
    “That’s right,” he said.  “One button down.  Now the other.  Good.  Now take hold of one of the cuffs.  Perfect.  So, here’s how I get out of this—I need you to pull on that cuff.”
    I pulled, and he twisted his body so the fabric rolled off of him and the shirt came free—exposing the body of a god. 
    I tossed the shirt on the floor,