Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)(64)

“It looks better than it feels.”

“You can’t know that.”

His smile was slow and sexy. “Yeah, I can. So tell me about the chiweenies.”

The change in topic caught her off guard. “What do you want to know?”

“What are they?”

“A Chihuahua-dachshund mix. So not purebreds. They’re cute and have good characteristics of both breeds. I guess that’s what makes them popular.”

“And a breeding program had gotten out of hand?”

She nodded. “I can see how it would happen. Someone who doesn’t have the experience thinks it might be fun and moves forward. Then a couple of years later, there are too many dogs and not enough buyers.”

“Like the people who think a baby alligator would be fun and then it grows?”

“Right, but I don’t think chiweenies endanger as many chickens.”

“We’re all against chicken death.”

She laughed, then picked up her champagne. “I checked my phone while I was getting my hair done. The dogs are safely in Sacramento. They’ll be evaluated by veterinary staff. The ones that are okay will be treated for parasites, vaccinated, then put out to foster.”

“Which is where you come in.”

She nodded. “I have already checked with a few people to see if they’ll take in a dog or two temporarily.”

“How many am I getting?”

She studied the lines of his face, the way his suit jacket emphasized his broad shoulders.

“Does it bother you that I do that?” she asked. “Do you mind about the owls and dogs and everything else I bring into your life?”

He took the champagne glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table, then leaned in, cupped her face in his large hands and kissed her.

The touch of his mouth against hers was soft and caring, with the slight hint of restrained passion. Tenderness ripped her apart from the inside until she was nothing but a beating heart filled with love.

He drew back and stared into her eyes. “I need you to be exactly who you are, Larissa. Chiweenies and all.”

She thought about how easily her dress undid from the back. The single long zipper would make it easy for anyone to help her out of the dress.

She slipped out of her shoes, then stood. “Come on,” she said quietly as she started for the bedroom.

Jack stayed on the sofa. “Larissa, you need to be sure.”

She smiled at him. “I’m leaving on the diamonds.”

He laughed, then got to his feet and followed her.

The bedroom was large, dominated by the big bed. She got as far as the middle of the room before suddenly losing her courage. It was one thing for Jack to seduce her but quite another for her to take charge. She’d had boyfriends before and it wasn’t as if she was a virgin, but Jack was, well, Jack.

She was sure there was more self-doubt on the way, but before she could form it into coherent thought, he walked up to her and pulled her close. She went into his embrace, reveling in the feel of his body against hers.

She reached up as he lowered his head and they met in an openmouthed kiss that started her body humming. His tongue tangled with hers, his hands roamed her from shoulders to hips. She wrapped her arms around him and hung on for all she was worth.

This was what she’d wanted for so long, she thought. Him and them. At last.

He moved his mouth over hers, even as he kissed her deeply. She found herself wanting to move in the same rhythm as the kisses, rubbing her body against him. But there were too many layers, too many clothes. She’d seen Jack naked a thousand times, but never like this. Never in an intimate setting. She wanted to be free to study and touch and explore without the constraints of work or professional conduct.

She tugged at his suit jacket. He drew back and smiled at her. “Impatient?”

“You have no idea.”

“Then let me help.”

He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. While he toed off his shoes, he unfastened his tie and slid it through the collar.

She’d planned on undoing her dress so it could be out of the way, but found herself mesmerized by what he was doing. Because while she regularly saw Jack without clothes, she’d never once seen him take them off.

There was something erotic about watching his big hands move gracefully on the buttons at his cuffs and then down the front of his shirt. When he pulled away the white cotton, she saw strong muscles and the scars from his various surgeries.

He pulled off his socks, then reached for the buckle of his belt. She felt both shy and eager.

Seconds later he was naked and standing in front of her. Six feet two inches of honed, aroused male. Passion darkened his eyes. His breathing was a little fast, and when he reached for her, she knew that for the rest of her life, there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

“Now it’s your turn,” he said as he tugged on the zipper. “This is going to be good.”

The dress drifted to the ground. She stood in front of him wearing a black push-up bra and ridiculously tiny panties. His breathing hitched slightly.

“Damn.”

She smiled. “Oh, please. You’ve been with some of the most beautiful women in the world.”

“Not one of them is anything like you.”

Exactly the right thing to say, she thought happily. She stepped closer and he wrapped his arms around her. They kissed again. She leaned into him, letting him take her weight, wanting to surrender as much as possible. He stroked her arms, then her back. His fingers were warm and sure as he unfastened her bra.