Page 67 of Lawton

Even in this, I couldn't get enough. I slipped my hands underneath her panties and caressed her bare ass while our lips and mouths continued to move. With her, everything was just right – the taste of her lips, the feel of her body, the sounds she made when stroked her skin.

Breathlessly, she pushed herself up, giving me a view that, even with the shirt, was sexy as hell. Her back was arched, and her hair was tousled. The look in her eyes made me hungry for more.

As I drank in the sight of her, she ran her soft hands along my naked torso. Watching as she went, she started at the top, trailing her fingers over my shoulders, over my chest, and lower, down to my abs, which rose and fell with my uneven breathing.

I wanted her. I wanted her more than anything. But first, there was something I had to say. "Chloe?"

Her hands, still trailing across my abs, paused. Her eyes met mine, and I could hardly think. Somehow, I managed to say, "I want you to know something."

She reached up and caressed the back of my neck. "Hmmm?"

I tried to put it into words. "This means something to me. Whatever we do – or don't do – I want you to know that. You're not like any other girl I've ever –" I paused, searching for the right way to say it. "It's just, you're different. The way I feel for you, it's different. It's been different from the first time I saw you."

Her lips parted, and her gaze grew warmer, but then, she paused.

Had I said too much?

Dumb-ass. Take it slow. Remember?

I considered all the girls I'd been with. They'd always wanted more. They'd shown up at odd hours. They'd left panties in my dressers and shoes in my closets. They'd asked for spare keys and the codes to my alarms. Slow or fast, they'd tried to move in, one way or another.

They'd claimed to love me. They'd claimed to know, in spite of what I told them, that I loved them back.

I didn't.

But with Chloe, it was different. Now, it was me wanting to move fast. Too fast? Maybe. But how about her? I studied her face, looking for clues.

"What is it?" I asked. "You okay?"

Smiling, she lowered her head and touched her lips to my neck. Against my skin, she murmured, "Actually, I'm better than okay."

She kissed my throat, and her tone grew teasing. "So I'm different, huh?" She ran a hand over my chest. "Different bad?" She trailed her fingers lower, brushing my abs. "Or different good?" Her hands drifted lower still, caressing my hardness in slow, tantalizing strokes.

My breath hitched, and I could hardly talk. "Different good. Really good." My eyes drifted shut, and I tried again. "You showing up, me finding you tonight, I swear, it's like a gift."

I was too far gone to censor my words. "I wished for it. I'm not kidding. They had this stupid cake, and when I blew out the candles, swear to God, I saw your face."

It was true. I'd wished for her. And here she was.

"Cake?" she said. "Is today your birthday?"

No. Today was the best day of my life, because I'd finally found her. Somehow, I managed to say, "Technically, a couple days ago."

She paused. "But I didn't get you anything,"

"Wrong," I said. "You fell right into my lap. Seems to me I got exactly what I wanted."

She gave me a smile. "Nowthat, I'm finding that a little hard to believe."

I ran a hand along her back. Her skin was soft and smooth, and I wanted to feel more of it. "Yeah?"

She nodded.

"Well," I said, pulling her close, "now that you're actually here, maybe it's my job to convince you."

"Funny," said a familiar male voice from the doorway, "I always thought your job was to beat the shit out of people."

Bishop.