Page 20 of Protected By Razor

When I come out of the bathroom, he’s sitting up against the headboard with the sheet low on his hips. He looks up when I walk in. His eyes go all the way down me in his t-shirt and all the way back up, and I feel his gaze like a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

I come.

I climb onto the bed, and he catches my hip and pulls me across him so I’m sitting on his lap, my knees either side of histhighs. His hands come up to my hips under the hem of the t-shirt and splay there.

“Morning,” he says again, softer this time.

“Morning.”

He’s looking up at me now. I’ve never looked at Razor from this angle in my life. His eyes are dark. His jaw is rough under my palm when I reach up and touch it. I’m sitting on him and I can feel him, hard already, through the thin fabric of his boxers, and I can’t quite believe I’m here, straddling him and noticing that.

I lean down and I kiss him.

I’ve never kissed him first. This morning I’m the one on top and he’s the one looking up at me, and I want to know what it’s like to lead.

I kiss him slowly. I take his bottom lip between mine and I trace the shape of his mouth with my tongue, and I kiss him until his hands tighten on my hips and a sound comes out of him that I haven’t heard before.

“Darcie.” Low warning. “Baby.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“I don’t, actually.”

He lets out a breath.

“Tell me,” I whisper, even though I know what he’s getting at.

“Keep kissing me like that and this morning’s going somewhere.”

“Oh good.”

His eyes change.

I’ve surprised him. I surprised me. I sit back a little on his thighs and I look down at him — this man I’ve wanted since I was a teenager, underneath me, and something bold and warm unfolds in my chest.

“Can I?—” I start.

“Yes.”

“You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

“I don’t care. Yes.”

I laugh. And then I sit up and I pull his t-shirt off over my head and drop it on the floor, and his eyes go down me and his hands tighten on my hips.

“Christ,” he breathes. “Darcie.”

Then I lean down and kiss him again.

It’s different this time. I know what he likes. I take his mouth the way he took mine, and when his hand comes up to cup the back of my neck I catch his wrist and put it back down on my hip.

“No,” I say. “Let me.”

He stills.