Wrong Man, Right Kiss (10 page)

And she hardly believed
how
good he was as she wrapped her arms around his strong nape, trying not to think of how utterly helpless she would feel if Julian was to turn on the charm with her like he did with all of his flings. Not that it would ever happen, or even that it would work. Because there could only be one man for her, and he’d
better
be watching them.

“Is Garrett looking?” she whispered, desperate to get this fake-lover charade over with. It was becoming dangerous…playing house with Julian. It was too fun and too easy. “Is he looking this way, Jules?”

“I don’t know, Molls, I’m looking at you.”

It was the tone he used, deep and husky as a country love song, that made her insides move in a way that made her supremely uncomfortable. Or maybe the sensation was due to the fact that Garrett must be watching them dance. It had to be. For it felt as if the Earth had stopped and not only Garrett, but the entire world, was watching them dance—or at least sway to the harp tune in the middle of Landon’s living room.

“I’m pretty sure he’s watching,” she whispered, moving closer to Julian’s ear. There, she leaned against his chest and whispered, “I’m thinking we could just stroll off somewhere and return a little disheveled, you know. Or go lock ourselves in a closet for fifteen minutes and let his imagination run wild.”

She could feel the coiled tension in the muscles underneath his shirt as he dropped his head to whisper back into her ear, his lips grazing the lobe. “As you wish.”

Fireflies exploded in her stomach, the words were so unexpected, as unexpected as the caressing bump of his lips against her earlobe. Molly drew back with a start, trying to calm her racing heart, telling herself he couldn’t possibly know what those words did to her. Or how deeply they spoke to her. “Really?” she whispered, shaking her reaction aside. “It’s a good idea?”

He arrested her gaze with tender, heavy-lidded eyes that threatened her equilibrium. All she knew was that in her favorite movie of all time, Westley looked at Buttercup in
just
this manner.

And this was just the way Garrett had to look at her by the end of the evening.

“Yeah.” Julian lightly chucked her chin, then with painstakingly slowness, smoothed his calloused thumb across her lower lip in a way that made her shiver. “I’ve always enjoyed a little closet fun. Let’s get lost.”

Molly didn’t remember moving so fast in her entire life—even though she had to stop several times because she was laughing so hard—than when Julian dragged her down the long hallway. She felt intoxicated with an incredible sense of freedom and mischief and fun—and when she caught a glimpse of Julian’s sexy, curvy smile, she wanted to fling herself into his arms and kiss him from the excitement alone.

Within seconds he came to an abrupt stop and efficiently shoved her inside a small downstairs office.

The instant the door closed after him, Molly’s heart stopped.

Darkness enveloped them. Silence and seclusion spread between them, around them, like a cloak of velvet. But in this closed space, nearly entirely occupied by a big mahogany desk, Julian’s scent suddenly stormed around her like a tornado, and it made her lungs burn. He smelled clean and of spices and within seconds Molly couldn’t seem to stand still. Her mouth watered, and she swallowed.

“Do you have lipstick in your purse?” he asked in a voice roughened with exertion.

Her eyes adjusted to the shadows, and she realized with a start that Julian was undoing the top buttons of his white shirt. Molly could barely organize her thoughts at the sight of his tanned throat being exposed, then the hollow between his collarbones, then a part of his pectorals.

She licked her lips and, without even thinking, she lunged at him.

Going straight for the dirty business, she coiled her arms firmly around his neck and kissed his square jaw, pressing her body against his marble-hard one. Next she trailed her lips down the length of his throat. She’d surprised him, she supposed. For he stood utterly still, maybe not even alive.

Oh, no, but he was definitely alive, very much so. His warmth seeped through his clothes and spread heat all the way to her bone marrow. Intoxicated by the incredible feel of his taut, warm skin under her roaming lips, Molly trailed a path of kisses down to his collarbone, where she crazily wondered if she should just go ahead and trace it with her tongue.

“Molly?”

Julian’s voice was a thick rasp.

“Mmm,” she answered, placing a gentle kiss in that hollow at the base of his throat.

“You could’ve used your lipstick straight on me, baby. You didn’t have to kiss me.”

It took a moment for that guttural whisper to register. She had been happily—maybe too happily—dragging her lips along the thick tendons of his throat so that they ended up smeared peach and no one doubted, not even Julian and especially not Garrett, that Molly had kissed him.

She stopped abruptly and backed off in sudden confusion, all of her body heat concentrating on her cheeks. “What do you mean…? I don’t even remember where I left my purse, I think Beth has it.”

He must have heard the utter embarrassment in her voice, for he gathered her back against him, his voice even thicker and rougher than before. “Shh. Go on then. This works, too.”

But she hesitated, her cheeks now scalding. As though encouraging her, Julian undid another button of his shirt, so leisurely that as she watched she began to focus on details she had never thought of before. How gracefully his fingers moved. How both their breaths ricocheted off the walls of the small space.

How she could feel his eyes burn like lasers through the top of her head as she watched him undo another button.

How a hot little tingle spread across every inch of her skin.

And how this would all be so easy to dismiss if she hadn’t seen him almost
naked…

“Now try kissing me a little lower.”

He spread his shirt open, fully open, and Molly’s windpipe clamped shut. Her knees wobbled in place. Jules could be a sculpture, he was so defined and so lean. At such a short distance, he looked even
more
ripped, like a top athlete. Molly could see every square indentation of his washboard abs, every sharp rise and fall of muscle.

A tremor rushed through her, and when she didn’t move, he slipped his hands onto the back of her head and gently urged her toward him. His fingers were long and felt gentle on her scalp, and as she set her palms on his rib cage and bent her head to his collarbone, she felt his fingertips work on her butterfly clasp and undo her hair.

A hot little shiver rushed from the top of her scalp to the tips of her toes as her hair tumbled to her shoulders. Trembling, she lowered her head and set a dry kiss on the V of his neck. Gingerly at first, holding her breath, trying to suppress another tremor building inside her body. Julian stood utterly still, and she wondered if he held his breath, too. Then she heard him softly say, “Go lower.”

Her eyes drifted shut and she set down another kiss, pressing her lips lightly against the tautly stretched skin above his six-pack. She felt the muscles contract under her fingerprints, and her tummy clenched in response. Why did she feel so shaky? Why was her mind spinning inside her cranium? She felt like a teenager stealing a first kiss, like a bad girl misbehaving, which she’d never been before. Of course it was all due to the excitement of making Garrett jealous. She had to remind herself all these emotions were due to the fact that her and Julian’s plan was so good, it was going to
work.

“Lower, baby,” he murmured in a thick, raspy voice.

She was so trusting of Julian that she almost automatically obeyed, following his instructions without hesitation, while in the back of her mind she started to wonder how he would get Garrett to see that Molly had kissed his washboard abs, too. Daydreaming of Garrett’s jealous face while a strange liquid fire simmered through her veins, she let her lips wander lower, Julian’s skin hot and silky under her lips…her heart thundering in her ears as she heard him once again rasp, “Lower.” Feeling like she was dreaming, she went lower, her eyes feeling heavy as a strange tremor tingled along her nerve endings, until she heard him unzip his pants.

Startled, she lifted her head in confusion. He was laughing down at her, his eyes sparkling in the shadows, those sensual lips curled at the corners as he zipped back up.

“You’re so innocent, Molls. I was wondering when you’d catch on,” he said.

She smacked his elbow and straightened, already feeling a rush of color climb up her cheekbones. “You jerk!”

She tried pushing him aside but he seized her wrists and yanked her back to him, his laughter lingering in his voice. “No, no, no, not yet, baby. We need to work on you now.”

He rumpled her hair with those long-fingered hands and Molly felt herself clam up, her throat closing with an unnameable emotion. She felt…unsteady. Vulnerable and open to him. Even those feathery touches on her scalp felt special. Electric.
Rushing from the roots of her hair to her brain, charging her with inexplicable adrenaline.

As he worked on her hair, the mist of his breath fanned, warm and minty, across her forehead, and she had to use all her effort to fight the impossible flames flicking through her body. His smell was killing her. Dizzying her.

What was happening to her?

This was Julian, not Garrett.
Julian.

She sucked in an unsteady breath, and his hands went still on the crown of her head. Their eyes locked in the dark as his hands slid down to her nape as he slowly ducked toward her. Closer. Closer.

She was frozen in place, her voice a breathless whisper. “Julian…what are you doing…?”

“Shh. I just want some of your lipstick on my mouth. Just a little.” His breathing changed as he secured her cheeks between his big hands, and she became aware of the bite of something incredibly large and rigid against her stomach.

“Julian…” she said, turning her head to the side. Their noses brushed accidentally, but rather than pull back, Julian dipped his head even farther and scraped his mouth purposely across hers.

The contact singed.

Her mouth parted on a gasp.

Julian pulled back, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. Then he lowered his head and repeated the motion, scraping his mouth across hers. Her legs went rubbery, her core melting like lava.

A little quiver rippled through her, followed by a surge of desire so sharp and powerful, her world tilted on its axis. Not even Garrett’s kiss had done this to her. Nothing on this earth had
ever
done this to her. She shouldn’t feel such blazing need swimming through her veins, shouldn’t want to feel more, feel everything.

But she did, goodness, she did.

His nearness intoxicated her, the brush of his sensual lips fascinated her beyond measure, and she felt weak with wanting, had never wanted anything so much as she wanted to be kissed by him. Right now, in this tiny lightless room, this very instant. Kissed thoroughly and deeply by this sex god everyone wanted but no one could ever have. Least of all Molly.

But Julian did not kiss her. Only teased her with the possibility of it. The delicious scent of his body enveloped and dizzied her. It was incredible; this feeling of flying. He was so familiar and at the same time totally new. As if discovering your body could do something you never expected it to. This was how it felt to awaken to Julian John. And that was the only word she could think of.
Awaken.

To Julian John.

He just had to kiss her.

Please kiss me.

Her breathing escalated and her lips parted as he scraped his mouth across hers for the third time. She heard a sound come out of herself and almost collapsed in a puddle on the floor when he released her.

“There. I’m probably wearing more lipstick than you are now. Come on, Mo-Mo. Let’s get out of here.”

He went to open the office door, and light from the corridor spilled in, silhouetting his magnificent form. Their eyes met across the gloom while he waited for her to get her bearings. But her knees felt like soup.

Her legs like noodles.

She blinked but couldn’t focus.

She couldn’t even breathe.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but her mind was screaming for him to come back, for him to kiss her, for her to kiss him, for her to do anything to be kissed by Julian John. And suddenly when he swung around to leave, she blurted out, “JJ, wait!”

Her heart stopped when he froze, and for a wild instant, all that was audible in the dark room was both their uneven breathing. Their eyes met again—and something electrifying pulsed between them.

He closed the door so slowly her heart almost disintegrated, and then she heard a click as it hit the doorjamb. Darkness swallowed them again, darkness and something wild and untamable. An unbearable intensity charged the air as he took a step forward.

Molly was not thinking right, felt drunk with sensations. With expectation.
Anticipation.

“What did you just say?” Julian asked. His voice was very, very soft. Dangerously soft.

Molly held her breath, her lungs near bursting. “I said
JJ.
”

His eyes shimmered like lanterns in the night, and her heart rattled in her chest and the blood roared in her ears as he took that last step closer.