Jon groaned against her mouth, dropping one last kiss before he let her go. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”
Tessa climbed into the car, careful to balance the food on her lap. The scent of fries filled the car and made her stomach rumble and pitch at the same time. Nerves were suddenly a factor now that she was actually going to go through with the act. She glanced over at Jon, the earlier lust still seemed so evident on his face and body language.
He wanted her. She was woman enough to admit it. She couldn’t believe it, but it was so obvious that she couldn’t even make an excuse. He seemed to like her touch and to be honest, the boldness he brought out in her was exciting. She’d always been one to talk a good game, but when push came to shove, she had never been the kind of woman to drag a home man with her and just go with attraction.
Part of her wanted to wait, to take things slower, but the one with the louder voice was more than willing and so able to follow Jon to his house and find the passion that she’d been reading about all her life. Even if he sucked in the sac. She snorted.
“What’s going on in that pretty head?”
She blushed when she realized the snort was audible. “Nothing you need to know about.”
“Oh now I really want to know,” with ease he backed out of the parking lot and turned onto the small bumpy back roads, easing the car through turns until they got to the main road.
“We’ll just say expectations and goals are high.”
His eyebrow zinged up. “No pressure,” he said dryly.
“Honey you’re not the only one. I haven’t gotten naked with anyone in a good while. Setting up Chapters has been my life since the spring.”
He stomped on the accelerator and watched the familiar houses of his road fly by on the winding Navasink. His blood was still buzzing from the not so innocent touches in the restaurant and the taste of her still teased his lips. He’d wanted women before, even after his wife and sometimes during his marriage to be honest, but the reckless feelings that she evoked…those were new to him. His time restrictions were so fierce lately and work seemed to consume him.
Hell, he hadn’t even thought about work today, and that wasn’t like him. He rolled to a stop at his gate and took her hand bringing her wrist to his lips, he felt her pulse flutter as they waited for it to swing open.
Tessa’s stomach jittered. She’d seen pictures of his home, had seen footage of it on interviews but the grandeur of it was even more impressive in reality. “Holy shit,” she said breathlessly.
Jon parked and turned to her. “What?”
“That house is huge. I mean I’ve seen it from the interviews on TV and stuff, but to see it. It’s just massive.”
Jon grinned. He kept forgetting she was a fan. She didn’t act like a typical fan, but every once in awhile she’d let little things slip. “It’s home, and one of the few things I wanted to keep in the divorce. Dot had always hated it, so it wasn’t that hard to win that part.”
Part of her burned to know more, the fan in her that jonesed for new info that wasn’t shared with the public, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t the time to ask questions. It wasn’t her place to ask questions no matter how intrigued she was. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to one corner of his mouth, then the other. “It’s just a house to some, but it can be a home too. If it’s home to you, then that’s the important part.”
He turned to her, amazed that she saw it so simply without asking a dozen leading questions. He tunneled his hands into her hair and pushed off the headband again, letting the short hairs at her nape sift through his fingers as he drew her close. The taste of her no less intoxicating after a few kisses, her unique flavor would haunt him for a long time, he thought.
He pulled back and got out of the car, rounding it again to help her out. The bag of food was nearly forgotten in their haste to get inside. Tessa grabbed it, knowing that fuel was going to be very necessary after the fact.
He pulled her along, their fingers clasped again. With the single minded determination she saw in him so often during a show or an interview he opened the front door, engaged locks and security and dragged her back into his arms. The white bag hit the floor as did her coat, scarf and purse.
He pushed at the sweater that so precariously hugged her shoulder. He’d been denied for what felt like years. His lips brushed her shoulder, his tongue following each freckle along her shoulder and back up to the long lovely neck.
Tessa wanted him. She wanted him like nothing else in her life. With shaking fingers she went to work on his shirt, and each inch of hair roughened flesh increased the tempo of her heartbeat. She pushed it off his shoulders and even before he could get it off his arms she had her mouth at his chest.
Jon’s head tipped back for a second when her clever little mouth found his nipple, those elegant fingers smoothing their way through the hair on his chest. She scraped down his stomach and back up to curl around the underside of his chest. He pulled her mouth away from him, shivering when she nipped him before letting go. “I’m gonna say you like my chest.”
Tessa grinned, her body tight and hot, but the laughter still there. “I love your chest. You just have no idea.” She helped him get the shirt fully off and let her fingertips trail over the line of his forearm to the curving muscle of his bicep and around to the triceps until Superman floated into focus. She traced the shield of the S then the barely red S itself.
He watched her touch him. The reverence in her eyes was intoxicating. He enjoyed sex—loved sex even, but it often had its time and place between meetings or the end of a long day to unwind. Watching her just enjoy him for the sake of it left him speechless.
She let herself just touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin, the play of his muscles, almost as if he wasn’t there at all. And when he caught her wrist just as she was trailing the line of his throat she sucked in a breath when his teeth scraped along the tissue like skin over her veins.
He pressed her palm against his chest and closed his eyes for a moment. “Will you come upstairs with me?”
She nodded, willing to go anywhere with him. It was humbling to know that he could have that much power over her, but now wasn’t the time to analyze. The moment seemed so perfect. The fact that he was a near stranger didn’t seem to matter. Words didn’t even feel necessary.
He turned and walked up the stairs, her breath caught at the play of muscles along his back. The way they tapered so gracefully into the worn jeans that could have been made for him—hell, they probably were. He wouldn’t even let go of her fingers long enough to go up the stairs.
Without words, she followed him down a hallway, so obviously the bedroom area of the house. Doors were decorated for the holidays with various levels of childhood. The glossy wood floors shined and the click of her boots seemed loud in the stillness of the house. He pushed open the door and any fear she had of invading an old marriage bed disappeared.
The room was his personal domain—unflinchingly masculine. Leather and rich, dark wood dominated the room; crème and bold red were the majority of the colors she found around the bed, drapes and cluster of chairs. The fireplace smoldered as if habitually kept stoked for comfort.
This was a man’s room. No frills, no tones of
He tossed a few logs on the fire and tugged open the top drawer of his bedside table, hoping he’d find what he needed. Most of his forays into the sexual realm were planned out, or at the very least known ahead of time. Thankfully a few condoms littered the drawer.
He turned back to her, the firelight strong and sure behind him. Her stomach jittered again as she tugged her sweater over her head and walked toward him.