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up a strand of her hair, sifted it through his fingers. “Yeah? And how would
     you know?”
    “I don’t. I just…Come on, Clay. You’ve been around. You bring a different woman to
     every event. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with the same woman twice.”
    He studied her. “Really.”
    “Yes.”
    “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”
    “I wasn’t. I mean, I do. I mean…hell. For God’s sake, Clay. I don’t know what I’m
     talking about.”
    “I think we’ve done enough talking.”

Five
    Ella held her breath as Clay leaned in. He didn’t pause like Shawn had done, didn’t
     ask for permission. But he didn’t pin her, crowd her or take what she wasn’t offering.
     He simply pressed his lips against hers. A soft, light brush of his mouth on hers,
     enough for her to taste, to feel the warmth of his breath, the tangy flavor of whiskey.
    Enough for her to want more. She leaned into him, laid her hand on his chest. So solid,
     so male. He snaked his arm around her waist, once again, not too much that she backed
     away, but enough that she knew he was there, that he was touching her. His fingers
     splayed across her waist, and he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers.
     The tip of his tongue teased hers, and she opened, laid her head back against his
     forearm and invited him in.
    He cupped her cheek with his other hand, scooted over so his thigh touched hers, and
     deepened the kiss, his tongue fully involved with hers now. She had forgotten what
     it felt like to have so much powerful male around her. Heat swelled inside her, the
     butterflies she hadn’t felt with Shawn, the awakenings of arousal—what she’d come
     here for.
    This…this was what she’d needed—what Shawn hadn’t given her. Maybe he never could,
     because despite wanting impersonal, with Clay it
was
personal. She knew him, knew his looks, his mannerisms, his moods. She’d known him
     nearly as long as she’d known James, and she felt safe in Clay’s arms. This was a
     giant first step for her. Clay had been right—she needed to feel safe.
    And yet she didn’t love Clay; she could get what she needed and walk away when it
     was over. But for now, she wanted to relish every moment, to think of nothing and
     no one but this man. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched her.
     It was a brandnew experience and she was giddy with it.
    Clay didn’t seem to be in any hurry, just held her against him, his mouth doing delicious
     things to her senses. And oh, man, could he kiss. Devouring her mouth one second,
     his tongue diving deep inside to meld with hers. Then switching things up to take
     small nips of her lips. Then he’d start the whole process over with deep, tongue-swirling
     kisses that made her toes curl.
    Other than touching herself, bringing herself to orgasm, which was more of a perfunctory
     thirty seconds to a few minutes of physical release, she hadn’t spent much time on
     pleasure in the past five years. This was overload. This was like going from the desert
     to an oasis.
    He moved his hand from her waist to her rib cage. Her heart pounded against his hand.
     Could he feel it?
    He lifted his head. “You scared?”
    She laughed. “No. Yes. Maybe. I haven’t done this in a while.”
    “Are you sure you’re ready?”
    “Yes.” She reached up and covered his hand with hers, brought it up over her breast.
     And nearly died when he rubbed his thumb over her nipple. Hot, tingling, her breast
     swelled, her nipple tightened.
    “You’d better be, because I want you. I want you naked. I want to put my mouth all
     over you. I want to make you come, to hear you scream when you do. And I want to fuck
     you all night long, over and over again. So tell me now if you’re not ready.”
    Good God Almighty. His words evoked images that made hermelt all over, things she’d only dreamed about. Things only James had done to her.
    For so long she’d been faithful to James. Faithful