I ran my hands over the baby-soft skin of her upper arms, dipped them under the dress at her shoulders, loving the feel of her.

She had my tie undone in two seconds flat, and I thought it probably wasn’t the first time she’d done that. I’ll be honest, it bugged me a little even though that was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

After removing my tie, she met my gaze, a sexy, flirty look in her eyes, and I couldn’t not taste her lips for another second. I pressed my mouth to hers and pulled her body into mine, finally running my hands over the silky white fabric that had been beckoning to me for hours. The fabric and the curves under it.

My hands slid downward, over her narrow waist, to her hips, and around to her ass, and it did not disappoint. I pulled her even closer into my body, pressing my cock into her softness, needing more but determined to take it slowly.

I felt her fingers at my neck, going for my shirt buttons, and if she wanted to be the one to rush things, I sure as hell wouldn’t argue.

I kissed her again, running my fingers through her long, silky hair, bowled over by the taste, the scent, the feel of her. This woman I knew so well in some ways was like a playground I’d been allowed to look at from a distance but never explore. Now that I was being given free rein, I realized there was so much more than what had always met my eye. There were layers of femininity and sensuality, in her quiet, sexy moan, her sweet floral scent, the hint-of-sugar taste of her tongue, the boldness of her fingers that now had my shirt unbuttoned to my waist.

Chloe tugged my shirt out of my pants and left it hanging on my shoulders. She pulled back from the kiss to run her gaze over my bared chest appreciatively, hungrily, and then her hands were all over it, as if it was a tactile feast she’d been longing for.

I caught my breath as I watched her. I’d had plenty of eager, enthusiastic lovers, but no woman had made me feel quite like she was making me feel, so… desirable, cherished, as if she couldn’t get enough of me specifically. The way she was eyeing me lit me on fire.

“Chloe,” I said in a growl, almost as if I had to reassure myself this was her, the girl I’d known since she was three feet tall and reed thin.

She apparently took that for the approval it was, because her hands trailed down to my pants as her lips returned to mine. Our tongues tangled, and I had the half thought that she kissed like no one I’d ever kissed before—and I’d had some damn good kisses in my life.