The Girl of His Dreams by Janet Nissenson
Belatedly aware that he was practically jogging through the spacious hotel grounds en route to the elevators, Jordan forced himself to slow his almost frantic pace down to a reasonable stroll. He kept Aubrey’s hand grasped firmly in his, not daring to slide his arm around her waist or shoulders right now, or touch any other part of her delectable body. He was far too aroused, far too aware of her, and anything more intimate than holding hands would likely cause him to lose complete control, and not give a damn who might witness such an event.
After she’d shocked him speechless with that teasing little kiss, and then inquiring provocatively what came next, Jordan had somewhat clumsily jumped into action. He’d beckoned the waiter over impatiently, motioning for the guest check at the same time, signing it without even bothering to glance at the total. He had surged to his feet, banging his knee against the table as he did so, but hadn’t even winced at the pain as he strode around to Aubrey’s side of the table. In two quick, jerky motions, he had pulled her chair out and helped her to her feet, barely giving her a moment to hastily grab her clutch bag. He offered up a silent thanks that she wasn’t wearing stilettos, thus allowing her to keep up with him as he hustled her out of the restaurant.
“Is this a race or something?” she asked teasingly, tugging on his coat sleeve with her free hand. “Because if I’d known we were going to run off our dinner, I would have worn my Adidas. Not, of course, that Jenna would have actually let me leave the house with them on.”
“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly, then tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I’m, uh, usually not this – well, let’s call it impatient, shall we?” He gave into temptation then and slipped an arm around her narrow waist, pulling her close against him as he murmured in her ear, “Having you in my bed tonight is pretty much all I’ve been able to think about since I saw you emerging from the water, so I’ll apologize right now for my lack of finesse.”
Aubrey shook her glossy blonde head. “Don’t apologize,” she insisted, reaching up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “And I don’t want finesse. I just want you to be you. The real you, not the smooth talking player that you probably like everyone to think you are. Okay?”
That brief, innocent little peck on the check still managed to arouse him nearly to the breaking point, and he could no longer resist sliding a hand to the back of her head, holding it still for his hungry, demanding kiss. When her lips parted in surrender, he didn’t hesitate to thrust his tongue inside her warm, sweet mouth, kissing her with such intensity that she began to whimper beneath the firm pressure of his mouth on hers.
Jordan lifted his lips from hers reluctantly, paying no heed to anyone who might have just witnessed that fiery kiss. Aubrey’s eyes were half-shut, her pretty mouth trembling and looking slightly bruised. His hand slid to her waist, giving it a squeeze as he murmured in her ear, “Was that real enough for you, darlin’?”
She nodded, clutching his leanly muscled forearm for support. “Yeah,” she replied shakily. “That’s – that’s what I meant, all right.”
He pulled her flush against his side again as they reached the elevators. “Well, then, it’s about to really get real. Let’s head up to my room, okay?”