Novel Square
8
He made it sound intensely sensual, made her feel intensely sensual. She took refuge in sipping coffee again, trying not to wonder just how elemental he was and how he would look as nature had fashioned him.
The open-necked shirt had been tantalising her all throughout dinner, giving her a glimpse of tight black curls arrowing down his chest. His forearms weren’t hairy, their darkly tanned skin gleaming like oiled teak. She imagined his whole body would be mainly like that with a sprinkle of black springy curls in the most masculine places. The desire to know, to touch, conflicted terribly with the sensible course of simply wishing him well and waving him goodbye. He wasn’t going to be in her life.
Except for this one night.
Leonard paid the restaurant bill, insisting it was his party treat for Favour. Everyone had drank their coffee, it was time to go. Nervous tension gripped Jasmine as Collins moved to hold her chair back for an easy rise from the table. She looked at the full moon as she stood up. Was this lust for him a madness that she would shake her head over tomorrow?
She didn’t understand it.
Was she raw and needful from Robert’s most recent dalliance with another woman? But she wasn’t feeling any bitter hurt right now. It was as though all that was in a far distant place. Collins Templeton generated a physical immediacy that completely clouded anything else.
She was super aware of her legs moving in step with his as they followed Leonard and Favour out of the restaurant, aware that the top of her head was level with his chin, aware of the strength of the man and the weak little quivers running down her thighs, aware of her breasts straining against the stretch fabric of Favour’s dress, aware of the flutters in her stomach where the yearning to experience Collins Templeton was strong and deep and beyond any mental control.
Leonard decided to drive down to The Crowne Plaza and have his car parked at the hotel for an easy pickup when he and Favour had had enough of the disco. They said their goodnights at his BMW and Jasmine and Collins watched them drive off before moving on to theend of the car park where her red convertible was waiting for them.
“Do you like to dance?” Collins asked as they strolled along.
He wasn’t touching her, merely walking beside her, but Jasmine barely found breath enough to answer,
‘Yes.’ ‘I’m sorry if you feel you’re missing out.’ She shook her head.
‘For me it would have been more of a torture than a pleasure.’
The wry statement drew her into glancing at him His eyes caught hers and delivered their own searing meaning as he elaborated. ‘I would have wanted more than the touching permissable on a public dance floor, Jasmine.’
She wrenched her gaze from his as heat whooshed through her entirebody.
The direct acknowledgment of the desire he was feeling for her left no way of dismissing it as possible fantasy. It was real. And it was vibrantly alive, pulsing through her, arousing eager responses that clamoured for expression.
Her mind tried to over-ride them. She didn’t do one-night stands. She believed that casual sex diminished what should be really special to arelationship that shared far more than just sex. Men were different, she’d told herself, having excused Robert’s infidelities as meaningless rushes of testosterone. But she’d never felt so sexually connected to a man before, not even with Robert at his charismatic best.
She fumbled in her evening bag for the car keys. Just a short ride and this… this raging temptation… would be over. Unlock the car, get in and drive Collins Templeton to Forresters Beach. He would fly away tomorrow and she’d come down to earth with a big thump if she strayed from what she believed in tonight.
But what if she never felt like this again? Was she passing up a once-in-a-lifetime experience? Would she always wonder?
Her fingers found the car key, curled around it, brought it out. Her hand trembled as she pointed the key at her car and pressed the remote control button to unlock the doors. Collins accompanied her to the driver’s side, intent on doing the courtesy of seeing her settled on her seat. She waited by the door for him to reach out and open it. He stepped forward, then turned to face her instead.
‘Have I embarrassed you?’ he asked. His eyes scanned hers with probing intensity, driving her out of her tongue-tied state.
‘No.’ She tried to smile but her mouth fell as wobbly as the rest of her. ‘I think the wolf in you was howling just then.’
‘And you didn’t want to answer?’Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!
‘Wolves tend to keep to their own territory.’
‘They have been known to cross boundaries if the call is strong enough.’ He reached up and touched the silk flower in her hair.
‘It’s not real.’ Her voice emerged as a husky whisper.
‘No. But this is, jasmine.’ His fingers feathered her earlobe before sliding under the fall of her hair to the nape of her neck. ‘This is,’ he repeated, his voice a low erotic burr as he moved closer and bent his head to hers.
The drumming of her heart filled her ears, blocking out any last seconddenial her mind might have dictated. A light lug of her hair tilted her face up. She was beyond fighting this moment which shimmered with the promise of answers she craved. His lips brushed hers, stirring ahost of electric tingles. Then came the tasting, a feast of sensual pleasure that was more seductive than any kissing jasmine remembered.
Her arms lifted and wound around his neck, her own hands thrusting into his hair, fingers driving through the thick mat of curls, pressing for a continuation, wanting to know arid feel more. He scooped her body firmly against his and the hard, heated strength of him was imprinted on her, the muscular wall of his chest, rock-hard thighs, and an erection that instantly set a wave of desire rolling through her, inciting a wild, questing passion for satisfaction when his mouth invaded hers.
Long, fierce, ravishing kisses… kisses in her hair, on her throat, shoulders, her breasts yearning to be touched, taken, her stomach reveling in the feel of his urgent wanting.