wanted to touch Michael Davidson, too.
The hand that wasn’t holding her arm came up and played with her hair in the water. He seemed to like to do that, swirling it around as if it were his paintbrush, and he was creating a masterpiece in chlorine.
He looked up at her, and Darcy’s legs slowed as a languorous feeling stole over her. They slowed even further when he brushed his fingers over her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I want to kiss you again, Darcy.”
Her legs went as limp as overcooked noodles.
She started to sink. He grasped her around the waist and treaded water for both of them.
“Please, let me kiss you.”
The word “no” should have passed her lips. Unfortunately, just the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest rendered her speechless. She moaned, a sound that came out sounding suspiciously like “please.”
Then his lips were on hers, wet and tasting like chlorine and man. Like him. She hadn’t forgotten the taste of him, not in the nine days, three hours and about twenty-five minutes since the last time they’d done this. She hadn’t forgotten the relentless pressure, both to her lips and her lower belly. She hadn’t forgotten the pleasurable abrasion of her chin and cheeks, where his stubbled jaw rubbed against her skin.
What she had forgotten was that she didn’t want a man’s tongue in her mouth.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t forgotten. His tongue didn’t come near hers. And the more he nipped at her lips, the more he pressed against her and molded his mouth against hers, the more she wanted to taste his tongue.
She broke the kiss. “Please!” she whispered desperately.
“What, Darcy?” he asked softly, his hand skimming up and down her back rhythmically while he held them afloat.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she directed her gaze at his jaw. “Kiss me.”
His chest rumbled against hers, managing to excite her. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Kiss me right.”
The rumbling stopped abruptly. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t bite me again, will you?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She managed to look up at him. “I swear.”
The blaze in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw made her take in a quick breath. He was touching her. He was holding her. And he was going to French kiss her. Darcy felt faint.
His lips lowered to hers. Darcy parted hers beneath his insistent touch. She felt his heart thundering against her chest, and a surge of feminine power rose through her. This affected him. She affected him.
His teeth nibbled on her lips. Then he made a groaning sound that hit her like a laser. His tongue plunged into her mouth. It was so good, the way the sensations rocketed through her. Her knee jerked up in reaction.
Right between his legs.
Darcy felt him pull back.
Heard a grunt.
Then felt him drop away from her, sinking into the water.
“Uh-oh.”
5
“I’m sorry!” Darcy cried after dragging Michael to the pool’s surface. “I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry!”
Michael kept his eyes closed and groaned softly. He quite frankly liked having Darcy’s arms around him, and he wasn’t about to do anything to make her let him go any faster.
She puffed a little as she towed him to the shallow end of the pool. “I swear I didn’t—” puff, puff—“do it on purpose!”
He groaned again, putting a little more oomph in it this time.
She stopped and rolled out from behind him, still cradling him to her. “Michael?” she whispered, touching her fingertips to his jaw. “Michael, please tell me you’re all right.”
As far as he knew, this was the first time Darcy had spoken his given name. It surprised him how much he liked hearing it on her lips. Forcing himself not to open his eyes to watch those lips as she whispered his name, he bit back an honest groan as her breasts pressed into his ribs. Mentally, he updated his list. Guilt works.
Her fingers probed his neck, and he realized she was
The hand that wasn’t holding her arm came up and played with her hair in the water. He seemed to like to do that, swirling it around as if it were his paintbrush, and he was creating a masterpiece in chlorine.
He looked up at her, and Darcy’s legs slowed as a languorous feeling stole over her. They slowed even further when he brushed his fingers over her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I want to kiss you again, Darcy.”
Her legs went as limp as overcooked noodles.
She started to sink. He grasped her around the waist and treaded water for both of them.
“Please, let me kiss you.”
The word “no” should have passed her lips. Unfortunately, just the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest rendered her speechless. She moaned, a sound that came out sounding suspiciously like “please.”
Then his lips were on hers, wet and tasting like chlorine and man. Like him. She hadn’t forgotten the taste of him, not in the nine days, three hours and about twenty-five minutes since the last time they’d done this. She hadn’t forgotten the relentless pressure, both to her lips and her lower belly. She hadn’t forgotten the pleasurable abrasion of her chin and cheeks, where his stubbled jaw rubbed against her skin.
What she had forgotten was that she didn’t want a man’s tongue in her mouth.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t forgotten. His tongue didn’t come near hers. And the more he nipped at her lips, the more he pressed against her and molded his mouth against hers, the more she wanted to taste his tongue.
She broke the kiss. “Please!” she whispered desperately.
“What, Darcy?” he asked softly, his hand skimming up and down her back rhythmically while he held them afloat.
Her eyelashes fluttered as she directed her gaze at his jaw. “Kiss me.”
His chest rumbled against hers, managing to excite her. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Kiss me right.”
The rumbling stopped abruptly. “You want me to?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t bite me again, will you?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” She managed to look up at him. “I swear.”
The blaze in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw made her take in a quick breath. He was touching her. He was holding her. And he was going to French kiss her. Darcy felt faint.
His lips lowered to hers. Darcy parted hers beneath his insistent touch. She felt his heart thundering against her chest, and a surge of feminine power rose through her. This affected him. She affected him.
His teeth nibbled on her lips. Then he made a groaning sound that hit her like a laser. His tongue plunged into her mouth. It was so good, the way the sensations rocketed through her. Her knee jerked up in reaction.
Right between his legs.
Darcy felt him pull back.
Heard a grunt.
Then felt him drop away from her, sinking into the water.
“Uh-oh.”
5
“I’m sorry!” Darcy cried after dragging Michael to the pool’s surface. “I’m so, so, so, so, so sorry!”
Michael kept his eyes closed and groaned softly. He quite frankly liked having Darcy’s arms around him, and he wasn’t about to do anything to make her let him go any faster.
She puffed a little as she towed him to the shallow end of the pool. “I swear I didn’t—” puff, puff—“do it on purpose!”
He groaned again, putting a little more oomph in it this time.
She stopped and rolled out from behind him, still cradling him to her. “Michael?” she whispered, touching her fingertips to his jaw. “Michael, please tell me you’re all right.”
As far as he knew, this was the first time Darcy had spoken his given name. It surprised him how much he liked hearing it on her lips. Forcing himself not to open his eyes to watch those lips as she whispered his name, he bit back an honest groan as her breasts pressed into his ribs. Mentally, he updated his list. Guilt works.
Her fingers probed his neck, and he realized she was
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