So while tension and anticipation built within him, he casually ambled over to the rack and slipped the cue into place. When he turned around, it was to discover she hadn’t moved, not even an inch. If she didn’t appear to be on the verge of regretting her request to the point of possibly bolting, he might have taken a few more minutes to simply appreciate the beauty of her. Instead, he sauntered over, threaded his fingers through hers, and drew her over to one of the narrow ends of the table.

“You’re going to do it here?” she asked, her voice a bit thready, breathless, higher pitched than usual.

Quirking up a corner of his mouth, he glanced around. “This is as good a place as any.”

“Would a bed not be better?”

“Not for what I have in mind. Besides, the setting will make for a singular memory. I’ve little doubt you’ve had numerous encounters on a bed. I want to give you something different, something you’ve possibly never had before.”

She swallowed, the delicate muscles of her throat working as she simultaneously nodded and licked her lips.

Placing his hands on either side of her waist, he lifted her and placed her gently on the table, hovering on its precipice, her legs dangling over the edge. With his gaze holding hers, he skimmed his hands over her hips, along her outer thighs—

Guided them over her thighs until they were nestled in the valley between her legs and then parted them with a quickness and distance that had her eyes widening, her nostrils flaring, her lips parting. He stepped between them, her knees on either side of his hips, latched on to her arse, and pulled her forward until that honeyed spot he intended to torment was pressed up against him so she knew how desperately he wanted to possess her.

A farther widening of her eyes, flaring of her nostrils, parting of her lips—and now added to that a clutching of the front of his shirt as though she feared dropping into the abyss. It was his hope she would dive into it, unfettered and free.

Slowly, because he wanted none of his time with her rushed, wanted to sear every aspect of her into his memories, he began easing the pins from her hair, tossing them toward the far end of the table so she could easily find them if she wished to gather them to secure her hair later—although if he were successful with his plans, the last thing she’d be thinking about was tidying up. He wanted her completely undone and dazed.

The long heavy strands broke free of the few moorings remaining and tumbled down around her shoulders, revealing more of the strawberry coloring that so fascinated him. With one hand he gathered up the abundant tresses, buried his nose in them, and inhaled deeply the fragrance of strawberries.