Hometown Heartbreakers: Holly And Mistletoe Part 40

"Trust me."

"I do."

Chapter 14.

J ordan touched her face, then trailed his fingers down to her shoulders. Holly remembered the last time he had stroked her and the feelings he'd evoked. Could she do the same to him?

She frowned. "Would you like me to touch you? I mean would you enjoy it?"

"'Enjoy' isn't the word I'd use." He must have caught her confusion. He smiled. "I was thinking more of ecstasy."

She wasn't sure she could do ecstasy, but she was willing to try. She shifted until she was kneeling in front of him, then leaned forward. He didn't move as she got closer. Instead of touching his mouth with hers, she pressed her lips against his neck, in that sensitive spot just below his left ear.

His warm skin appealed to her. After several chaste kisses she risked touching him with her tongue. He tasted of himself, a combination of masculinity and temptation. A faint tremor rippled through him.

She continued her exploration, tracing the curve of his ear, then trailing a damp path to his mouth. As she kissed him, he held her arms and lowered them both to the quilt.

Bodies touched, tongues stroked, breath mingled. Their slow dance of arousal left her weak and shaking, but she didn't want to stop. She figured that she'd gotten lucky with Jordan. He was a kind, gentle man who made her heart beat faster and her thighs tremble. For some reason he liked her, even wanted her. Men like him weren't usually interested in women like her, and she didn't understand what combination of circ.u.mstances had allowed him to find her appealing. Whatever it was, she was grateful. She wanted her first time to be with him because she knew he would make it wonderful. She didn't even mind being afraid.

She lay half on top of him. He shifted her so one of her legs slid between his. She braced one arm on the floor. Her free hand rested on his chest. As he tilted his head and explored her mouth, she wondered if it was all right to touch him as he'd touched her.

Tentatively, almost hoping he wouldn't notice, she spread her fingers and began moving across his chest. He moaned low in his throat. He'd laced his fingers in her hair, and now he urged her closer. The rate of his breathing increased, as did hers.

"Unb.u.t.ton my shirt," he whispered, then drew her lower lip into his mouth. The sucking sensation forced all conscious thought from her mind, and it was several seconds before she could respond to his request.

Unb.u.t.ton his shirt. Easy enough, she thought, reminding herself she'd unb.u.t.toned her own shirt countless times. Surely this couldn't be harder. Could it?

She slid her hand to the center of his chest, then followed the line to the slight V below his collar. The first b.u.t.ton came undone easily. As did the second. Then she noticed the combination of hot skin and soft, crinkly hair brushing against her knuckles. How was she supposed to concentrate while that was going on? When combined with the delicious things Jordan was doing to her lips and tongue, she didn't have a prayer.

She broke the kiss, then pushed herself into a sitting position. "I want to see what I'm doing," she said.

He raised his arms and tucked his hands behind his head. "Be my guest."

It was both easier and harder to work this way. Although she wasn't distracted by his magical touch, she was aware of him watching her. She forced herself to ignore his dark gaze and instead pay attention to his shirt.

The rest of the b.u.t.tons opened easily. She worked quickly until she reached the waistband of his jeans. Now what?

"Pull out the shirt," he said helpfully.

She could do that. She tugged until the fabric came free. The cotton was warm from his body, and wrinkled. She unfastened the last three b.u.t.tons, then drew the center of his shirt apart.

His chest was bare to her gaze. She stared at him. She'd seen men's chests on television and in magazines. She'd even seen Jordan's, but this time she was responsible for baring his skin to her gaze.

She could feel the heat of him, inhale his scent. He was alive and real and right in front of her. Tentatively, half-afraid he would protest, she placed her hand on his flat belly.

His muscles rippled under her touch. She glanced at him, but his face gave nothing away. His eyes were closed as if he were completely focused on what she was doing.

She moved her hand up slowly, delighting in the way his chest hair felt against her palm. When she reached his collarbone, she brushed the shirt off his shoulders. He half sat up and shrugged out of the garment, then sank back onto the quilt.

Now his eyes were open. He placed his hands on her hips. "Straddle me," he said.

She shifted over him, but this time when she came down, she wasn't on his belly. She could feel his hips between her thighs and something else. Something hard and long. Something that made her insides feel funny and that place between her legs tighten.

He held out his hands. She laced her fingers with his. Slowly he began to draw her closer. She had to lean toward him, then allow him to lower her to his chest. The action required cooperation and trust.

He met her halfway, touching her mouth with his. They kissed. She felt herself slipping into a world she didn't understand. A world of sensation and desire. She wanted and needed, but the specifics required eluded her. Her body strained toward the release he'd offered her once before. She wanted to feel his hands on her, his mouth touching her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She broke the kiss and lowered her head until she could kiss his chest. She tasted him there, then trailed through the dark hair to his belly b.u.t.ton. She nipped his skin, delighting in his involuntary reactions. He groaned when she suckled his flat nipples. He sighed when she ran her hands from his shoulders to the waistband of his jeans. He gave a half laugh, half strangled moan when she kissed the sweet spot under his ear.

Still straddling him, she leaned close and whispered, "I want to see you."

His hands moved to his belt. As she moved off him, he unb.u.t.toned his jeans. When he sat up, he removed his boots and socks, then put his hands on the waistband.

"You sure?" he asked.

She nodded. Somehow still being fully dressed made her feel safer.

He pushed off the rest of his clothing, then lay back down.

Holly stared intently at his feet. Her courage had momentarily deserted her.

"Scared?" he asked.

"Uh-huh. But you have nice feet."

"Thanks. Check out the knees. They aren't too bad, either."

Knees? Well, okay, that would be safe.

"Give me your hand," he said.

"What? Are you crazy? You want me to touch it?"

Involuntarily her gaze shifted to his face. Now she was in the same trouble, but only from the other end.

"Are all virgins this much work?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Gosh, I really hope so. I'd hate to be the only one." She was sitting next to him, her hip pressed against his. It would be so simple to just look down, but she couldn't.

"Give me your hand," he said again.

She drew in a deep breath and did as he requested.

"Now close your eyes."

That was harder, but slowly she lowered her lids. Surprisingly the darkness comforted her. What she couldn't see couldn't hurt her. Not perfect logic, but it worked for the situation.