“Shut down?” He shook his head. “There was nothing shut down about the kiss we shared last night.”
She knew he was right. There was no point trying to deny it, even if a part of her argument fell apart. “You’re right,” she said, “there wasn’t. But one kiss doesn’t change anything.”
Grace had spent enough time with Dylan in the past two days to know how to read the look in his eyes. Instinct was vitally important to him, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take time to think things through. Right now, he was processing everything she’d said.
“After what you’ve been through,” he finally said, “I can understand how hard it must be to trust anyone. Especially another man.”
She was surprised—very surprised, actually—that what she’d said seemed to be enough to make him back down from wanting to date her. It was what she’d told herself she wanted, and yet…
“Good,” she made herself say. “I’m glad you understand.”
“After what that scumbag and his family did to you, anyone would be wary and want to take things slow the next time.”
She was with him right up until the end…when he got to slow and next time. “Dylan—”
“If slow is what you need, I can do slow.”
She knew she shouldn’t let excitement flood back through her. Shouldn’t let it push all of the earlier disappointment aside. Especially since Dylan was a champion racer and she doubted there was even a trace of slow in his blood.
Then again, building wooden sailboats by hand was perhaps one of the most painstaking careers he could have chosen. Maybe he could make a promise to go slow and mean it.
Still, she couldn’t just give in like this, could she? Couldn’t let a simple promise that he would go slow be enough to change her mind about everything she’d been so certain about for so long. She needed to be rational. Strong.
“In the past two days, I’ve met your entire family and have spent two consecutive evenings with you. If that’s your version of slow, we both know it’s not a good idea.”
“That’s not even close to my entire family,” he corrected with a grin before sobering again. “I know I’ve pushed you. It’s just—” She knew from the way he was looking at her, his eyes so dark, so intense, that she didn’t have a prayer of being prepared for whatever he was going to say next. “I saw you and I knew.”
“You knew?” She could feel her breath coming faster as she watched the shift happen inside Dylan—from thinking and processing to pure male instinct. She felt as she imagined a lioness would when her mate found her. Hunted—and just as suddenly hungry for him as he was for her. “What did you know?”
He reached for her then, the barest brush of his fingertips across her cheek enough to send her heart leaping and racing. “I knew this.” She watched him watch her, and when she didn’t pull away—Lord, how could she?—he slowly drew his fingers down to the nape of her neck. “I knew your skin would be this soft, this sensitive.” Thrill bumps rose all over her body as he ran his fingertips down from her neck over her T-shirt, then to the bare skin of her arm exposed by the short sleeve. “I knew you’d be this responsive.” Somewhere in there, she reached for him without even realizing it so that her hands were holding on to his waist. “I knew we would fit together this perfectly.”
Grace knew she should find more words, more reasons that she couldn’t do this, but she really, really didn’t want to. Not when it had been so long since she’d felt sensual pleasure. And not when it seemed like forever since she’d felt even the least bit feminine or had thought about anything but her son and her work.
She didn’t see how this could last, how it could turn into something real—how the gorgeous, incredible man from the amazing and famous family could ever look at a normal woman with a ten-month-old child and see a future. But, hadn’t she waited so long to feel this way? Not just a year and a half, but her entire life? For a man who made her want like this, who made her crave with every last fiber of her being?
Last night, she’d let herself have a taste. One perfect, wonderful taste of Dylan. Why couldn’t she have one more? Especially when he was right that she was only human.
Too human to know how to keep resisting him tonight...
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I want to kiss you, Grace. I’ve wanted to kiss you a hundred times tonight. Every time you smile. Every time you laugh. Every time your body brushes up against mine.”
It would have been easiest for both of them if he simply took what he wanted by leaning in and taking that kiss. One kiss without her permission and their incredible chemistry would take over.
But he hadn’t made it easy on her from the first, and she knew he wouldn’t cop to doing that now. What do you want? was what he was asking her. And he was waiting for her answer with the patience that he must have honed from hours working in his boathouse building beautiful boats with his magical hands and brain.
Grace wasn’t nearly as patient, though. “I’ve wanted to kiss you, too, all those times.”
She didn’t know who moved first tonight, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was how sweet it was to let pleasure sizzle through her as their lips touched. All night long, they’d been leading up to this. To this kiss. To his hands on her and hers on him. She knew that now—finally accepted it as inevitable.
Kissing Dylan wasn’t about weakness, wasn’t about not having enough self-control. On the contrary, it was about being strong enough to let herself have what she wanted.
What she needed.
Her heart jumped in her chest and she lost her breath as he loved her mouth so tenderly. So seductively. Locking her arms around his neck, she all but melted against him, and knew from the low groan he gave just how much he liked having her pliant and aroused against him.
“Soft.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then more down across her cheek. “You’re so soft.” She lifted her chin so that he could nibble at the underside of her jaw. “You smell so good.” He ran his lips down the sensitive skin of her neck, nibbling at her between kisses. “You taste so sweet.” His hands were warm on the small of her back, warmer still as he slipped them just beneath the fabric to rest on her bare skin. But instead of taking the next step and pulling her shirt off over her head, he said, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”