Seven Days

Chapter Twenty-Two

Syd's eyes glittered like aquamarines in the light cast by kitchen fixture as she gazed up at him. She was tiny compared to him, and he knew for a fact he could lift her as easily as he did his nephews. And as she gazed up at him, it did the oddest thing to him, sent butterflies going crazy deep inside him, the same way he felt as a kid, when puberty hit and his hormones went wild. Only now, there was nothing to stop him from tugging her against him, wrapping her in his arms, savoring the feel of her full, firm breasts against his chest, the equally firm mounds of her ass in his hands. Now, he could do all the things he'd once fantasized about doing with her. She haunted his dreams as a teenager, and now, she was his reality.

"You're staring at me," she whispered to shatter the thickening silence.

"Syd, do you know how often I thought about this?" As he spoke, he reached out to trail his fingertips along her cheek. Her skin was so soft, it practically begged to be touched and he found himself powerless to resist the urge. "And it didn't even come close to what it's like to be with you."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

He grinned. "Nah. I had an image to protect. But, not with you. I don't have to worry about that any more." He brought his free hand up and cradled her face between his palms and added in a whisper, "I love you."

Her eyes softened. "I love you, too."

"I like how that sounds." He bent to her, capturing her soft lips in an equally soft kiss that fired his blood and spurred his lust. He didn't want to rush with her, didn't want to just rip her clothes off and pounce on her. Well, actually, he did, but at the same time, he didn't. Instead, he tilted her face to his and bent to press a gentle kiss against her lips. He savored the lush softness of her lips, the way they parted slowly and just the tip of her tongue brushed his bottom lip, almost shyly. That was how she kissed—shyly, almost hesitant, as if afraid to overstep or seem too aggressive.

She should only know there was no such thing as far as he was concerned. Not for her. He wanted her to know she could explore him to her heart's content—his mouth, his body, he didn't care. He reveled in the sensations she sparked to life, that she sent coursing through his body. His blood warmed so slowly as her tongue swept along his, and when she drew it back into her mouth, he had to fight back a sigh as the heat in his blood became fire.

Her fingers swept down along his sides, her hands coming to rest on his hips, heat from her touch sinking into him. He almost ached for her touch against his bare skin, against his nipples, his cock, anywhere and everywhere she could possible touch, stroke, caress.

She tugged his black long-sleeved tee shirt from the waist of his jeans and when her fingers slid beneath it to sweep along his bare back, he shivered against her. She did it again, this time letting her fingernails trace down the same path, and when she brushed just beneath the waist of his jeans, he moaned softly into her mouth. He couldn't help it. He had no idea how sensitive that bit of skin actually was until just then. Women were perfectly satisfied to let him explore them, they seldom took the time to return the favor with the exception of reaching into his jeans to wrap a hand about his cock for a few seconds.

But Syd took her time. Her fingernails scratched down. Then up. In slow, lazy strokes, and he shivered again as his skin tightened into goosebumps. Shivered and broke his kiss to sweep his lips along her chin and down her throat. Her pulse beat fast beneath his lips, her fingers dug deeper into his skin, her whispered, "Frerin..." was a caress of its own.

A hint of jasmine and vanilla teased his nose. Her scent, both bottled and personal, combined to tease him, to make his head spin as he gripped the bottom of her sweater to slide it up, over her ribs, to lift it past those perfect, full breasts, to tug it over her head. Her hair, that glorious mass of thick, dark red silk, brushed his hands as he freed her from the sweater and when she looked up at him and smiled, in that moment, he'd have given her anything she asked for, no matter what. He'd have done anything for her, no matter what.