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him. Her hands were shaking with her need to touch.
    He was warm, so warm. The feel of his lips moving against hers, over them, his tongue stroking against hers, sent pleasure racing through her as she lifted, strained to get closer without gripping his arms and pulling herself straight into his embrace.
    His fingers curved around her shoulders, held her to him. Her fingers curled, and before she knew it she was gripping the material of his shirt, feeling the rolled sleeves beneath them.
    Okay, maybe he wouldn’t feel her hands shaking through the material of his clothing. Maybe he wouldn’t sense the incredible need that there seemed to be no escape from. A need that had tormented her since the day she first met him in Aruba.
    “God. Tey.” His hands slid down her arms, gripped her hips and jerked her closer, pulling her against the hard, heated length of his cock.
    Behind denim, thick and hard, the hot flesh of his erection was a wedge of temptation, a promise of satisfaction, and it was pressing into her lower stomach erotically. She could feel that promise within her grasp. His hands gripped and kneaded her ass, lifting her, the silk of her gown pressing between her legs as she felt his thigh pressing between hers, the rough denim rubbing the silk against the swollen, sensitive flesh of her sex.
    She had never deemed herself a romantic person, but she saw starbursts. She felt herself melting, her knees weakening and her breathing becoming harsh and labored.
    His teeth nipped at her lips as she gasped, fighting to draw in oxygen. His lips tore away from hers, the rasp of the day’s growth of his beard scraping against her jaw in a caress that had her arching closer to the incredible sensation. Finally. He was finally touching her, kissing her. Finally she was in his arms where she ached to be.
    It was exquisite. It was better than she had ever imagined it could be and her imagination was damned good. Years of fantasies were finally becoming reality.
    “Jordan.” The gasp of his name was a sigh of pleasure as she felt his hand move from her rear to her thigh, his fingers edging beneath the silk of her gown, the callused tips of his fingers stroking up the outside of her thigh. The rasping sensation of his flesh against hers drove her pleasure higher, hotter.
    “Is this what you want, Tey?” His arm wrapped around her waist, lifted her, and before she could do more than breathe out roughly she was pressed against the wall as he gripped her thigh, pulling it to his hips as he brought her closer to the incredible warmth of his body.
    Her gown fell back from her thighs as she felt his hard, muscular thigh press harder, more firmly, into the sensitive mound of her pussy.
    “Jordan,” the moan rose unbidden. “I’ve needed this. I’ve needed this so desperately.”
    “More?” he growled. “Do you want more, Tey?”
    More? She was ready to beg for more, did that count?
    Her clit throbbed. The aching torment of unquenched pleasure rose inside her, burning through her body and dampening her skin with perspiration. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive, her nipples tight and hard. Every cell in her body was screaming for his touch.
    “Answer me, Tey.” Rougher, darker, his voice stroked over her senses as she felt his fingers curve over the bare flesh of her rear. “Do you want more, sweetheart? Is this what you want?” His fingers curved, pushed beneath her rear, and found the lush, slick flesh of her pussy weeping in need. Swollen, sensitive, the folds of flesh felt too hot, too slick and wet with her juices.
    “Yes.” It was a hiss of exquisite pleasure the only answer she could give. His fingers stroked, rubbing against the clenched opening of her pussy, and sent rasping flares of pleasure rushing through the sensitive flesh, through her clit and straight to the inner walls of her pussy.
    Oh God, she wanted to come. She was so close. She could feel the need throbbing in her clit, rushing through her veins.