How to Love by Kelly Jamieson Page B

“Okay then. I’ll do it.”
    Her body pulsed as she looked at him for a stretched out moment. “Really?”
    “Really.” And then he stepped into her house and shut and locked the door behind him. “When do you want to do it?”
    “Um…” Distracted by the fact that he’d changed his mind about coming in, she gave her head a little shake. Do it? The photographs? Or… “I don’t know. Whenever is good for you.”
    “I have a busy week. Next weekend?”
    “Um…sure.”
    Still holding her hand, he started down her short hall toward her bedroom.
    “What are you doing?” she asked, tripping along behind him in her spiky heels.
    “ Now I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

Chapter Six
    A thrill ran through Jules at his words, a shivery, aching thrill right in her core, her feet hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
    He paused and looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow lifted in a question. She nodded and he pushed into the room, her bedroom. Her house was not big, and neither was her bedroom, and stepping into the room, they were already standing beside the bed. He flicked on the lamp on the table beside it, the glow illuminating her room. He cast a quick glance around and she was glad she’d taken the time to pick up all her clothes and put them away. Usually her room was one big closet, with clothes draped over the squishy armchair in the corner, lingerie hanging off the doorknob of the closet or piled on her dresser, shoes covering the carpet beneath the chair. But tonight her room was tidy, well, as tidy as it could ever get with all her books and CDs and magazines and little trinkets and objets she’d accumulated on her travels, the brightly colored painted wooden fish on the wall, the carved dragon on top of the stereo, coconut shell balls in a bowl on the dresser.
    “Pretty,” he said, touching the beads dangling from the bottom of her lampshade. “Not what I expected.”
    “What did you expect?” He brought her up against his body, all hard and hot, and she nearly gasped.
    He bent his head and nuzzled her neck, the prickly stubble of his whiskers making her shiver with delight. “Something modern and impersonal.”
    “R-really? Why?”
    “I don’t know. Yes I do. But we can talk about that later. Right now I just want to do this.” He grazed his teeth over her skin, eliciting another quiver. Then he dragged his tongue down the side of her neck. Her head fell back, eyes closed, and he kissed her throat where her pulse raced, a long, open-mouthed kiss. Oh God.
    A ravenous ache started up low inside her. One of his hands on the side of her neck, the other on the small of her back, he pulled her up against him, against the hot hardness of his groin. Her nipples burned and tingled and she wanted to climb up his body, get as close as she could. Her hands gripped his shoulders, big strong bones beneath his firm skin, under the thin fabric of his shirt. “Mike,” she whispered as his tongue fluttered over her pulse. “God, Mike.”
    His mouth slid down over her collarbone, pressed a kiss on her chest just where her breast began to swell, just above the edge of her dress. Then his hands were brushing aside the fabric of the wide V neckline to bare her shoulders. He cupped her shoulders, licked a trail down between her breasts, and back up, his lips nipping at her chin, and then his mouth took hers in a long, drugging kiss. She opened for him helplessly, wanting that, wanting so much. His tongue slid into her mouth, so hot, and she welcomed it, touched her own to it.
    A groan rumbled in his throat as he kissed her, over and over. His hands slid from her shoulders up to her head, into her hair, holding her as he made love to her mouth with his, with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, until she was burning up so hot she thought she’d die if she didn’t have him inside her. She held on tighter to his shoulders as her legs went weak.
    “God!” she gasped when finally he lifted his mouth from