three steps below her, he stopped her from moving on. He ran his free hand along her leg, starting at her ankle, gliding slowly to her knee. His gaze locked with hers. “Your skin is so soft. Like you, Tessa. Like all of you.” He climbed the steps to join her on the landing. “I haven’t had softness in my life.”
She slid her arms around his waist as he framed her face with his hands. Her breasts rested against him. He closed his eyes for a second, savoring the contact, then pressed his lips to her temple, inhaling the clean, flowery fragrance of the curls tickling his nose. He bent closer still, threading his fingers through her hair, rubbing his cheek leisurely against the silken tresses, feeling her pull herself more snugly against him, a soft sigh escaping—
“Sorry, Tess. Just passing through.”
They jumped apart at the interruption. Chase saw her struggle to focus on the man who waited on the stair below them, needing to get by.
“Um. Norm, hi. Please excuse us.”
She took a step back, introducing the men at the same time. Chase followed her, leaving enough room for her neighbor to walk past. The man didn’t hesitate to leave them alone, but the interruption brought about a return of Chase’s earlier intention not to let this relationship get too serious.
When Norm shut his apartment door, Chase spoke to Tessa before she could invite him in.
“I’ll see you Monday,” he said, ignoring the disappointment in her eyes.
Her face was flushed a soft pink, either a remnant from their embrace, or embarrassment from being stumbled upon by her neighbor. It was a pretty face, one he wouldn’t mind waking up to. He didn’t think she could say the same about him. His early-morning face was probably safe for public viewing only on Halloween.
He brushed his fingertips along her cheek, tucked her hair behind her ear. “It was a nice evening. Thank you, Tessa. Now, please let me see you safely into your apartment.”
She trapped his hand against her face and smiled, warming him clear through to his bones.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m easy,” she said. “After all, this is our first date.” She raised her brows, as if daring him to deny another such momentous occasion would occur. “But I don’t like not knowing what you would have done if Norm hadn’t interrupted us.”
“There’s a saying, Tessa...”
“Yes?”
He took the keys she’d pulled from her skirt pocket, located one that seemed appropriate and opened her door, passing the key chain back to her as she glided by him. “Always leave ’em wanting more.”
Four
Chase regretted not kissing her good night.
He might have left her wanting more, but he’d denied himself. too, which distracted him all the next day. Even as a teenager, he’d had more control of his thoughts, his passion. He usually faced a dilemma head-on, but this one had blind sided him, and he couldn’t seem to angle it down a straighter path. He was wishing for something he couldn’t have, setting himself up for the biggest fall of his life.
Because Sunday was the only day of the week he allowed himself a long stretch of personal time, he took his distracted self to the local bookstore to wander, his favorite pastime. His gaze kept landing on books he’d hardly noticed before. He thumbed through a few, but didn’t want to buy any because the clerk knew him, and this subject was far afield from his usual reading list.
Just how juvenile was that? he wondered, rubbing his forehead. Thirty-two years old and he was worried about someone thinking he might be interested in the opposite sex? Not that he hadn’t been interested before, but his attention level had risen sharply, as if his knowing everything there was about women and how to please them was more critical than curing cancer.
Giving in to the urge that kept drawing him back to the Health and Psychology section, he chose a book and slid it behind his copy of Beyond Ethnicity and Gender. He headed toward the cashier, then ran right into Tessa coming from the children’s section, her stack of books teetering for a second before she grabbed them tighter, preventing them from tumbling.
They said each other’s name at the same time, then a long silence ensued. Finally she smiled, which not only meant that her mouth curved upward, but her whole face took on a radiant glow. Tessa Rose was deep-down, through-every-cell beautiful. The long, flowered dress she wore only added to her femininity, even as the modest neckline hid any hint of cleavage.
Although cradling the books in her arms, she pressed a palm to his chest, as though she couldn’t stop herself. He covered that soft, warm hand with his, sliding it to rest against his heart, keeping it there. And then, because he seemed to have lost all ability to control his actions, he leaned over her pile of books and kissed her—more than a greeting, less than a seduction. He heard a tiny whimper rise in her throat and felt it vibrate against his lips. People brushed by them, no one saying anything. The wonder of San Francisco, he thought.
He lifted his head and looked at her as she opened her eyes slowly.
“Well,” she said, her cheeks taking on a pink hue. “Good afternoon to you, too.”
“That was good night. This is good afternoon.” He wrapped his free arm around her, pulled her as snugly to him as the barrier of books allowed, and really kissed her, not caring who watched. What mattered most was the way her fingers clutched his shirt as her tongue met his, shyly, then with a boldness he wanted to explore but knew he couldn’t. Not here, anyway. Not now.
“Mmm.” Her heels lowered to the floor again as he moved back. She blinked once, then again. “Um. You make up for lost opportunities very nicely.”
“I’ve been kicking myself since I left you last night.” The words poured out as if someone had turned on a spill-your-guts faucet. He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t seem to change it.
“Have you?” Her voice caught a little. “I’ve been kicking you, too. Metaphorically, that is.”
He ran his fingertips over her eyebrow, along her temple, down her cheek. His thumb brushed her lips, still moist from their kiss, parting them. “I hardly slept,” he said, letting his hand drift down her neck, then across her shoulder to skim along her arm, the downy hair rising in response.
“Me, neither.”
He got pulled in by those baby blue eyes that made him wish his life had been different, normal. Even seminormal. He glanced at her books, but his eyes focused on her nipples, which pressed against the summer-weight fabric molding her full, high breasts. Primitive images flooded his mind, urgent cravings he not only couldn’t control, but didn’t want to. He slid his books in front of him.
“This is going really fast, Tessa.”
“I’m as shocked as you are.” She looked in the direction of the coffee bar. “Would you like to get something to drink? Or maybe you have to get back to the Center?”
“I have time.” He realized they’d be at the cash register together paying for their books. Stalling, he looked at her stack again. “I see you’ve stocked up. What did you get?”
She tugged the books closer. Her cheeks turned a deeper pink. “Just some of my favorites.”
Bewildered at her apparent embarrassment, he angled his head to look at the titles, but she tipped the spines down.
“I’ll show you over coffee,” she said. “What did you get?”
“Grisham, and this one.” He let her see the top book.
“What else? You’ve got a third.”
He waited until she looked up at him, curiosity in her eyes.
“A psychology book.” He gestured toward the cashier. “After you.”
“Um. You go ahead,” she said. “I forgot