Page 87 of All For You

“Mmm.”

“Ms. Bennet?” His voice was deep and grazed with husky amusement. “Why did you stay?”

I wrung my hands and searched up in the ceiling for a better answer. “Okay, I might have been sort of watching you.”

He spread his hands through my hair, and he kissed right under my ear, which tickled, and my shoulder twitched.

“Now I know where she’s ticklish. And I like that answer.” His voice was low and growly, and he kissed under my other ear. “And?”

I traced my hands over his shirt as he kept kissing and tickling me.

“What did you think?” he asked.

His hands found my waist—warm, steady—and rose up and up until he was cupping my breasts through the fabric. The contact, even through the material, knocked the air right out of me. The same must have happened to him, because his shirt stretched tight across his chest when he breathed in. The sight of his outlined pecs short-circuited every coherent thought I had.

Um, what was the question again? Oh yeah. “I was impressed by your physique.”

I pulled out his shirt and reached for his skin, greedily scratching down the ridges and indents of his tight, carved abs.

“Ahh.” His stomach hardened at my touch, and he sucked in a breath. “Keep going. Yeah, I like that. I like that answer too.”

I traced the skin along the waistband of his jeans. “You’re a good swimmer.”

He coughed out a laugh. He shoved his hands into the back pockets of my jeans and hitched me closer against his hips. “And?

“Diver.” My lips twitched, and I traced around his waist to the back.

“Clearly, you saw me in my briefs. Give me something here, Lizzy.”

I loved that this intensely confident man was craving a compliment from me.

“I risked life and limb to see that arse. And it was pretty sweet.”

A pleased glint shone in his eyes. “I aim to please.”

“You did please. I saw a lot more when you got out, of course.”

“And?”

“Also impressive.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, which gave me confidence.

“I’m looking forward to seeing all these parts in another action, besides swimming,” I said boldly, smoothing my hands down his upper thighs now, knowing I’d seen a hint of the gloriousness between those legs.

“Are you now?” He cocked his head at me and started unbuttoning my linen shirt. Slowly.Too slowly, like he was unwrapping an expensive gift, rather than disrobing me from the old clothing I’d worn all day. I wondered if the light touches of my skin while he was doing it were accidental or whether he was torturing me. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” I flicked the top button of his jeans, wanting to tell him to go faster, wanting him to touch me more.

“I might feel a little intimidated by all the men in your books who tend to…would you say…overperform?” he said.

“I would say, perform at the right level.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I like that you have standards. I will be performing at the right level, then.”

He pulled my shirt off and cast it onto a chair, then ran his fingers lightly over my cleavage.

“Someone is pretty confident of themselves,” I said, wanting him to rip my bra off with his teeth.