Chapter Eight
Lewis kissing her took Darcy off-guard enough that she barely had time to close her mouth from the round “O” of shock as his mouth descended on hers.
His lips met hers and it quickly became clear that Lewis had mastered his own game. His lips were strong on hers, then gentled. They moved just the slightest bit, waiting for her to catch up. And when she did, when she met his movement, his rhythm, he growled just a little bit in the back of his throat, causing her to gasp. Causing him to pull away.
“Sorry. I just thought…but it was stupid. Darcy, I’m really—”
“You’re overthinking it.”
“I overthink everything.”
“I know, but not this. Not now. Shut down that million dollar brain of yours and just feel how good the kiss is.”
“But, I’m wondering if the pressure is enough. I mean, I kind of stopped paying attention to the pressure.”
“That’s good.”
“Is it? Because another thing I read about—”
She grabbed his crisp, white shirt and pulled him back to her. “Lewis, kiss.”
And he did.
This time all her thoughts of algorithms and high scores and marketing demographics were gone. Nothing mattered except kissing Lewis.
Finally kissing Lewis Kampmueller.
She let the phone slide to her lap so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer. He didn’t need much encouragement, quickly putting his arms around her and crushing her to his body. The heat rolled off him in waves and she pressed closer.
“Darcy,” he whispered her name as they gasped for breath. Before she could answer, his lips were on hers again, the pressure exquisite, the moistness just perfect, the movement…oh God, the movement. Definite high-score material.
She’d dreamed about this moment her whole life. And though none had involved her leg being propped up and iced, it far exceeded her wildest expectations.
He buried his hands into her hair, and she couldn’t have cared less that it would mess up her curls. He held her head in place, deepening the kiss, tilting her head just a tiny bit…there, oh, that was nice. He’d rack up more points for that move.
She leaned back from her sitting position on the table at the exact moment that he pressed more deeply into her, and as she lay down, he followed her, moving half his body on top of hers.
But she wanted…needed…all of him. “Get on the table with me,” she half whispered, half moaned in his ear as he nibbled her neck. She hadn’t used her command tone, but he acted as if she had, nearly launching himself on top of her as he scrambled onto the table.
She thanked Misters Dolce and Gabbana for the foresight to put a high slit in this glorious dress, which allowed her to widen her legs and cradle Lewis.
And, oh, wow, was there ever a lot of him to cradle. She could feel the hot, hard length of him against her and she slid her hands down his lean back to his butt, urging him to move. Which he did, to her everlasting gratitude.
One of his hands slid down her body, pausing and squeezing in all the right places, sliding his jacket out of the way, and finally resting on her hip. Then lower, lower still until she felt the warmth of his hand on her bare thigh.
And all along he never broke the kiss. The glorious, just right, pitch-perfect kiss of her dreams. Their tongues tangled, he sucked on her bottom lip, she nipped his top one. God, she could kiss this man forever.
His hand slid around to the back of her thigh and gently pulled her leg open wider just as he did a small thrust with his hips. “Oh, God, Lewis,” she moaned and he pulled his face away from hers and looked down at her. His brown eyes were warm and tender as he watched hers, even if his glasses were on the verge of fogging up. He scanned her face, as if seeing it for the first time.
Seeing her for the first time.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, moving her hands from his butt, up that wonderful back and into his hair, pulling him back down to her. But he resisted, and then, oh dear God no, his head started to tilt. “Don’t think, Lewis, just keep kissing me,” she said and raised her head off the table, her mouth seeking his once more. She kissed him soundly, lowered her head back to the table, and said what she’d wanted to say for years and years and years. “Don’t ever stop kissing me.”
She saw him swallow, almost gulp. Aw, crap, she’d scared him away. But then his gaze dropped to her mouth. She bit her lower lip, waiting for what seemed like an eternity. Waiting for Lewis to get it. To finally understand that it was supposed to be them.
And then a small smile crept across his handsome face and she knew he’d found the winning formula.
He leaned to kiss her again just as the door swung open. The kid-doc entered the room, saw Lewis on top of Darcy, snorted his indignation and said, “Are you kidding me?”