He's the One Jane Beckenham (best book recommendations .txt) 📖

His cheek caressed hers, his lashes, tickling her pale ivory skin.

"What was that?"

"A butterfly kiss,” he laughed. Then suddenly, Cade found his laughter died as the heat inside him burned up a dozen notches. He was all heat and desire, and urgency. Kissing was serious business. “But this, this is a real kiss.” And he swooped down on her mouth, savoring her taste, the feel of her mouth beneath his.

And it felt good.

Damned good.

He wanted more. He wanted to feel her tongue against him, just like when she sucked his fingers.

The tension in Cade spiraled as he teased her lips open and dipped into the sweet recess of her mouth.

"You wanted real,” he murmured, not wanting to leave her mouth for one moment.

"And I got it,” she whimpered against his mouth as her hands did oh so sexy things to his skin, rubbing across his nipples, tugging at them. Pain and pleasure rolled into one and time lost importance. He dropped his hands to her waist. She was so small he could nearly span it. In one fluid movement he unzipped her dress and went to pull the straps down.

"Wait.” Her hand halted his movements. “Let me."

Cade's excitement reached boiling point. He didn't know how much more he could take. Taking a step back, Taylor reached up and clasped the straps of her dress in both hands, and, oh so very slowly that Cade thought he'd died and gone to heaven, she began to strip.

She slid the straps down her arms first, lowering the dress, inch by glorious inch, keeping her gaze hooked on his, not wavering one iota.

His groin swelled, uncomfortable as it strained against his jeans. He needed release. He needed Taylor. Now.

He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms, finish the job, strip her bare, plunge into her delectable heat. But he didn't.

Damn it. Slow down.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, cursing his greedy need. He'd never felt like this about any woman, never needed to. He'd been the player, the one in control. But right now, Cade wasn't sure about anything.

"You want more?” she asked.

Cade found his tongue tied in knots and nodded like some pubescent schoolboy. Trouble was he felt like one. Eager—and so very ready.

The dress descended, revealing first the firm swell of her breasts, just visible above that lacy concoction she called a bra. Then more.

Cade sucked in a lungful of air. Was he meant to breathe? Who cared! His eyes stuck fast to Taylor as the dress slid lower, and lower, exposing her flat abdomen, the soft curve of her hips. She halted.

He wanted to call out—"No, don't stop. Keep going. I can't wait any longer."

Then, she smiled at him, and he knew—this woman had total control over him. She had from the moment she'd walked into the bar.

She hooked the straps of her sheath dress over her thumbs and still it slid lower. Cade's gaze went with the dress, sound roaring in his brain; his heart beat so frantic he was sure it would explode. Everything centered on Taylor.

Then suddenly, the dress hit the floor, and she stepped out of it, kicking it aside with the tip of those sexy high heels of hers.

Beneath the soft lighting, she stood, dressed only in the sexy underwear she'd surprised him with earlier—and heels. Heels that made her legs look as if they went on forever. Legs he imagined wrapped around him.

Cade sucked in his breath. “Beautiful."

And she was. A tumble of hair cascaded around her shoulders in a glorious cloud, and with the tempting peek of hardened nipples thrusting against her lacy bra and the delicate outline of her thong, Taylor Sullivan was an exquisite sight to behold.

With his breath jammed in his lungs, Cade reached a hand out to her.

Would she come? Or would she back out? Taylor may have waited a long time for this moment, but Cade felt as if he'd waited a lifetime.

Chapter Eight

Taylor had made up her mind. There was no going back. She took Cade's hand and willed her nerves to abate. Silently, he led her toward the bedroom. He kicked the door open and went to switch on the light.

She stilled his hand. “No! Leave it off."

She saw his hesitation and could understand why. She'd just exhibited the most erotic striptease—and now she wanted the light off.

"Please.” Her plea came out on a soft breathless whisper, evolving into a sigh of relief as his hand fell from the switch. Instead, he turned her to him with both hands resting on her shoulders, and with the tip of one finger, he tipped her chin up to him.

"I promise we'll go slow."

"I know.” She trusted him and that single thought caught her off-guard. Yet right now, she did. She trusted Cade Harper implicitly.

His mouth curved into an impish grin as he stared at her with undisguised desire. “I want you, Taylor. I want to be inside you, feel you around me, holding me."

Lordy! Taylor's gaze slewed to the floor.

"No, don't look away. I need to see your eyes, read them and see what you're feeling. Sex isn't just touch and feel or sensory, it's being able to see what the other is thinking, being guided by them. Will you guide me, Taylor Sullivan?"

"But you're the teacher."

"Am I? Right now, I feel as if I know nothing. That you are teaching me."

And with that his mouth covered hers...

Taylor didn't know what sex would be like Oh, she'd imagined it. Hours when she lay awake at night, making dream-filled love with a faceless lover.

But this?

Cade's touch far outweighed her imaginings, the fumblings of teenage years. Those had been girlish dreams. And the sweet and innocent kisses from...?

No, not even Rob's foreplay had ever brought this much pleasure. Pleasure that, deep down, she felt guilty feeling . Or enjoying.

Cade's kisses covered her mouth, her eyelids, her jaw, the tip of his tongue twirling the erotic curve of her ear, teeth grazing her earlobe,