captain’s hat was on the coat rack in the corner, with a couple of baseball caps for good measure. One of them was a Cubs hat.
Rascal! He’d never mentioned he was a Cubs fan in all of their baseball discussions. She would have teased him about that, what with the curse of the goat and the hundred–year drought and all. At least her team had won a World Series in her lifetime.
Her attention shifted to the intertwining of Charlie fingers with hers. Face to face, Charlie’s gaze was fixed on hers. This was the moment of truth.
Lindsay closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her heart raced, the pulsing strong in her neck. Routinely, she would devour a man at this point. He should be the one spellbound, not her. She wasn’t at all comfortable with this.
Charlie rested his chin on her head, his arms around her.
Lindsay’s legs wobbled beneath her, and her breath quickened.
“Come now, doll, relax,” Charlie whispered.
“I am relaxed,” she lied. She felt sick to her stomach.
Charlie pulled back, taking a long look into her eyes. His gaze fell to her lips, followed by the touch of his fingertips upon them. Did he see the weakness in her eyes; feel the trembling of her lips?
She swallowed hard as Charlie lowered his mouth to hers. He descended upon her a warm and gentle kiss, his fingertips tracing down her neck, across her throat. Did he notice the tightening?
His lips barely brushing her neck, he said, “I can see I bring about emotions that are foreign to you. Don’t be afraid.”
Lindsay let out a whimper, finally managing to say, “It’s not like I’ve never done this before.”
“But have you dared to let a man cherish you as I do? Have you let your heart lead you, not your head? Trust me,” he whispered, his kisses lowering to her collarbone. He unbuttoned her shirt, and her skin tingled beneath his touch.
When she was fully unclothed before him, Charlie said, “You take my breath away.”
He reached behind his head for his shirt, and Lindsay helped tug it over his head. They stood chest to chest. “Surrender to me,” he said.
The manifestation of love in his eyes made Lindsay’s own brim with tears. “Everything you said is true. This is all new to me. I admit it. I’m afraid, but I want this … I want you, Charlie.”
Charlie caressed her cheek with his fingertips, wiping away a lone tear that had escaped her eye. “I promise, after this you’ll understand what it feels like to be truly loved.”
Chapter Twelve
Sitting on the edge of Charlie’s bed, wrapped in sheets, Lindsay watched nervously as he lit several candles. “It sucks that you’re so put together right now,” she said, “and I’m a wreck.” She needed him to display just the slightest amount of the vulnerablility that she was feeling.
Charlie reached for her hands and pulled her to a standing position. “I’m not that strong,” he said. “You move me—make feel things I never thought possible. I’ve never needed anyone more. You have my heart in your hands.”
She hadn’t expected to hear those words in her lifetime, and found it hard to believe someone could feel that way for her. She looked around the room, brightly lit by all the candles. A gorgeous, ripped, half–naked man waited patiently, eager to love her, and she could no longer deny him. She took a deep breath and let go of the sheets around her. “My mind is made up.”
Charlie’s gaze roamed up and down her body. He leaned closer. “And?”
She weaved her fingers into his hair and touched her forehead to his. “Life is short. It’d take a supernatural intervention to keep me from loving you tonight.”
Charlie wrapped his arms around her, his forearms resting against her back, his hands grasping her shoulders. Her neck tilted, and he kissed rows down each side.
Lindsay’s eyes rolled back at the heat of his breath on her skin. He eased her down onto the bed and positioned her hands above her head, his fingers intertwined with
Rascal! He’d never mentioned he was a Cubs fan in all of their baseball discussions. She would have teased him about that, what with the curse of the goat and the hundred–year drought and all. At least her team had won a World Series in her lifetime.
Her attention shifted to the intertwining of Charlie fingers with hers. Face to face, Charlie’s gaze was fixed on hers. This was the moment of truth.
Lindsay closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her heart raced, the pulsing strong in her neck. Routinely, she would devour a man at this point. He should be the one spellbound, not her. She wasn’t at all comfortable with this.
Charlie rested his chin on her head, his arms around her.
Lindsay’s legs wobbled beneath her, and her breath quickened.
“Come now, doll, relax,” Charlie whispered.
“I am relaxed,” she lied. She felt sick to her stomach.
Charlie pulled back, taking a long look into her eyes. His gaze fell to her lips, followed by the touch of his fingertips upon them. Did he see the weakness in her eyes; feel the trembling of her lips?
She swallowed hard as Charlie lowered his mouth to hers. He descended upon her a warm and gentle kiss, his fingertips tracing down her neck, across her throat. Did he notice the tightening?
His lips barely brushing her neck, he said, “I can see I bring about emotions that are foreign to you. Don’t be afraid.”
Lindsay let out a whimper, finally managing to say, “It’s not like I’ve never done this before.”
“But have you dared to let a man cherish you as I do? Have you let your heart lead you, not your head? Trust me,” he whispered, his kisses lowering to her collarbone. He unbuttoned her shirt, and her skin tingled beneath his touch.
When she was fully unclothed before him, Charlie said, “You take my breath away.”
He reached behind his head for his shirt, and Lindsay helped tug it over his head. They stood chest to chest. “Surrender to me,” he said.
The manifestation of love in his eyes made Lindsay’s own brim with tears. “Everything you said is true. This is all new to me. I admit it. I’m afraid, but I want this … I want you, Charlie.”
Charlie caressed her cheek with his fingertips, wiping away a lone tear that had escaped her eye. “I promise, after this you’ll understand what it feels like to be truly loved.”
Chapter Twelve
Sitting on the edge of Charlie’s bed, wrapped in sheets, Lindsay watched nervously as he lit several candles. “It sucks that you’re so put together right now,” she said, “and I’m a wreck.” She needed him to display just the slightest amount of the vulnerablility that she was feeling.
Charlie reached for her hands and pulled her to a standing position. “I’m not that strong,” he said. “You move me—make feel things I never thought possible. I’ve never needed anyone more. You have my heart in your hands.”
She hadn’t expected to hear those words in her lifetime, and found it hard to believe someone could feel that way for her. She looked around the room, brightly lit by all the candles. A gorgeous, ripped, half–naked man waited patiently, eager to love her, and she could no longer deny him. She took a deep breath and let go of the sheets around her. “My mind is made up.”
Charlie’s gaze roamed up and down her body. He leaned closer. “And?”
She weaved her fingers into his hair and touched her forehead to his. “Life is short. It’d take a supernatural intervention to keep me from loving you tonight.”
Charlie wrapped his arms around her, his forearms resting against her back, his hands grasping her shoulders. Her neck tilted, and he kissed rows down each side.
Lindsay’s eyes rolled back at the heat of his breath on her skin. He eased her down onto the bed and positioned her hands above her head, his fingers intertwined with
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