Along Came Trouble(50)

He smiled, teeth bright in the dim room. “In a minute.”

“Then get my pants off.”

That smirk. “Those are not pants. They’re barely even shorts.”

He took them off, though. Took off her panties, too, with an appreciative languor that made her squirmy with lust. But also, unfortunately, rather nervous, because she hadn’t given a lot of thought to how exposed she’d be in this whole scenario. How much he’d see.

Caleb dipped his tongue into her navel, running his big, warm hands up the sides of her body to spread over her rib cage. Delicious. Incredible. Unfortunately, a loudspeaker in her head wouldn’t stop reminding her she had a pasty white post-baby stomach, and it was totally unfit for this kind of thing.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered. The request might have been more effective if she hadn’t been running restless fingers over his shoulders and basically holding him in place.

He licked a path upward toward her breasts. “Why not?”

“It’s not . . . That’s not my best area,” she said, wincing internally at how lame that sounded, and how hopelessly out of her league she was with this guy. She’d nearly passed out when he took his shirt off. He was about fourteen acres of sculpted male perfection, taut and toned, exactly the right amount of muscular to tell you he could get the job done—any job—but not so much to make you fear he spent his spare time in a weight room pumping iron and watching his muscles glisten in the mirror.

And she was a mom. With a mom belly.

She’d been trying to brazen it out, playing the bold, sensual seductress he made her feel like, but she was skating a pretty fine line here between lust on the one side and incredulity on the other. And fear. Yeah, there was a little fear, too. He’d seen it, called her on it, and she’d nearly botched the whole thing.

But he’d assumed she was afraid of him, and that wasn’t it at all. She felt 100 percent safe with Caleb. Her body, anyway. No doubt he’d broken some hearts, and he would break hers if she let him. She wouldn’t let him. She’d already made up her mind—her heart was staying out of this.

What she was afraid of was the inevitable moment when she would disappoint him. She wasn’t experienced enough to play with a guy like Caleb. Not young enough or tight enough anywhere. He could bounce quarters off his abs. He’d be used to women who did body shots and owned fur-lined handcuffs and had lingerie rather than underpants.

Caleb moved back a few inches and appraised her, lightly running his fingers down the center of her stomach, then over to the sides and back up. He met her eyes. “You have no idea how hot you are.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t have to say anything. Which was good, because she couldn’t imagine what to say. Thank you for that very kind, very flattering lie?

He planted his hands on either side of her face and gazed down at her, serious and devastatingly handsome. “When was the last time someone made you feel sexy, Ellen?”

“Ah . . .” Nothing came to mind. Certainly, no one had ever made her feel the way he was making her feel right now, with his hot, hungry eyes focusing all his attention on her. “It’s been a while.”

His eyes narrowed, and she wondered idly whether he’d been a sniper. The man had a way of putting you in his sights. “How long’s a while?”

She didn’t answer him, so he kissed her. He kissed her lips, her throat, her stomach. He kissed the palm of her hand. She got a little floaty and delirious with the pleasure of it and forgot they were having a conversation, so it came as a surprise when he asked her again. “How long’s a while?”

“Years,” she whispered. “Three years. Thirty years. A while.”

He nestled his head against her stomach and breathed into her belly button. “That’s a shame, sweetheart. A body like this deserves to be worshipped. Someone should be making you feel sexy every single day.” He glanced up her, smiling wickedly. “I know a good man for the job.”

Kissing his way up to her breasts, he made short work of what remained of her inhibitions with his tongue and his hands and his stubble rasping over her nipples. Could you come this way, just from having a man ravish your breasts? She had never thought so before, but Caleb was making her revisit some of her assumptions. Such as the assumption she’d ever had sex before. It was starting to seem possible she’d only been playing at it.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. “Soft and warm and welcoming. The perfect woman.”