Dare to Touch by Carly Phillips Page A

jaw. “Go for it.”
    She grinned, seeing that he wasn’t thrilled when the shoe was on the other foot. “Why did you and Meg break up?” She not only wanted to know, she needed to.
    “Check and mate,” he said, shaking his head.
    “I don’t play chess.”
    “But you did just corner me.”
    She grinned, pleased with herself. “Well?”
    “When the time came to go away to school, I had to ask myself if it was worth the risk to break up and maybe lose her just so I could see other women.” He paused, obviously giving the memory serious thought. “I decided it was … and that made me realize I didn’t really love her. We were just used to each other.”
    She exhaled the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding.
    “Is that a smile I see?” he asked.
    She shrugged. “You spend a lot of time talking to her. It’s good to know how you really feel.”
    “Now are we finished talking about exes?”
    “I should hope so.”
    “Good. Because I’d rather focus on how I feel about you.” He leaned over, pressing her back into the cushions, his lower body in direct contact with hers.
    “Feel that?” he asked of his hard, firm erection.
    She opened her mouth to answer, but a needy moan came out instead. It was heady, knowing he’d gone to all this effort to make a special evening for them, that she could arouse him and make him want her as much as she wanted him.
    “I like hearing what I do to you.” He nuzzled his mouth behind her ear and sucked on her skin.
    Ripples of awareness rocketed through her body, and she writhed beneath him, wanting more.
    “You know we’re alone here, right? Nobody will come in.”
    She shivered at the intent in his tone.
    As he spoke, he pulled the strap of her dress over one shoulder and pressed soft kisses over her bared flesh. He continued to unveil her body, sliding her other strap down until her dress settled around her middle.
    “Lift up.”
    She did as he asked, and he stood long enough to slide the material down her legs, letting it pool on the floor. He stood over her, desire in his gaze, and her stomach tumbled in the best possible way.
    “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”
    “I hope you’re going to make love to me.”
    His eyes darkened at her words. “Yes.” The word came out on a hiss. “But first I’m going to taste every inch of you.” He placed one knee on the edge of the sofa and straddled her hips.
    “You’re still dressed.” She reached for his shirt and slid her hands beneath the soft tee. His abs were firm and warm, and she inched her fingers upward, scraping her nails over his nipples.
    He shuddered, letting out a low groan.
    “I want to feel your skin against mine,” she murmured.
    He lifted the shirt and pulled it roughly over his head, then his lips came down hard on hers. But that wasn’t all. He fell on her, the defined planes of his chest pressing hard against hers. The scrape of his hair, the heat of his body, the ravenous way his mouth devoured hers all worked to make her feel wanted in a way she never had been before.
    In a way she feared she never would be again.
    *     *     *
    Dylan’s hunger for Olivia warred with his need to slow down, to treat her right, to take her slowly. To make her feel how special she was to him. But she scraped her nails against his chest—and his cock, already at attention, grew even harder. He ground his dick against the cradle of her hips, and she moaned loudly at the contact. Too loud, even though he’d ensured they didn’t have neighbors.
    Good thing he’d come prepared. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk scarf.
    “What’s that for?” she asked, eyes wide. And interested.
    Fuck. “Much as I wouldn’t mind getting kinky and tying you up, this is actually to make sure you don’t bring security running in here with your loud moans.”
    Her lips parted in a cute oh . “Really?”
    “Unless you think you can keep it quiet.” He rocked his cock directly