He leaned back and rested his arm along the edge of the settee where his fingers almost dug into her hair. She took another drink, this time running her tongue around the rim of the snifter. Of course, that got him to thinking about her tongue around the ridge of his cock, and the organ in question swelled further in his pajama pants. He wore a robe, just as she did, so she wouldn’t see his growing erection, but she had to know what she did to him with that gesture.

  “You haven’t touched your brandy,” she said.

  “Quite right.” He took his drink in one swallow and let it burn on the way down his throat. Father’s brandy wasn’t harsh, but any liquor, even the finest, gave off some heat if you drank it quickly. He set his glass on the table beside the settee and moved toward her, his arm still poised to take her in an embrace.

  “Now you’re cooking,” she said. She downed the rest of her brandy and handed the glass to him. “I was wondering what it took to set a fire under you.”

  “You set it hours ago.” He put her glass next to his and then turned back to her, moving ever closer.

  She put her palm on his chest. “One thing before we crank up the tractor.”

  Tractor? Oh well, if she wanted to talk farm equipment, he’d listen, as long as she didn’t budge when she did it.

  “This is fun, darlin’,” she said. “Nothing more.”

  “I’m pretty sure a one-night-stand won’t satisfy me.” And he’d make dammed sure she wanted him again. And again.

  “That’s fine for as long as I’m here, but we stay friends,” she said. “Understood?”

  At that, she stuck out her hand for him to shake. Fine. He could agree to that, too. So he took her fingers in his and squeezed them. Now that they’d established their friendship, they could move on to more pleasurable matters. So, he turned her hand over and kissed her palm.

  When he glanced up, she was staring at him as she’d never imagined a man would do that. Perhaps she wasn’t used to a lover going slowly, making her feel treasured. The thought tugged at something in the vicinity of his heart. Tonight, she’d find out exactly how it felt to be cherished.

  He took her chin in his hand and pulled her face toward him for a kiss. Hesitating with their lips only inches apart, he let the anticipation build.

  Only now did he notice she wasn’t wearing make-up. She looked this beautiful in her natural state. He’d find her head on the pillow next to his in the morning, every bit as lovely as she’d been at the reception.

  “Rick?” she said.

  “Hm?”

  “Were you planning on kissing me some time tonight?”

  “Right. Sorry.” He closed the final distance and lowered his mouth to hers. The moment he did, the world lurched, settling their lips together like the pieces of a puzzle.

  She tasted right. No other way to describe it. Brandy, of course, but she had her own nectar, too. He couldn’t get enough of her but took more and more as their mouths performed a dance far too intimate for a simple kiss.

  She seemed as affected as he, taking his face in her hands and angling her lips beneath his for a deeper kiss. Now the tip of her tongue emerged...the way she’d teased him before. He took it between his lips and grazed it with his own tongue.

  The smoldering need between them lit into a blaze. He’d meant to go slowly, but one kiss and he was already to the point where he could take her, hard and fast. With a soft moan, she moved closer to him, pressing her body against his as if she felt the same hunger and couldn’t get enough of him.

  Her breasts crushed against his chest, which was no way to treat such luscious flesh. He had to get enough control of himself to lead her into the bedroom instead of taking her crudely on this settee.

  Finally, she was the one to break the kiss. “That was hot.”

  “Agreed.” He had to struggle for breath and to restore his sanity.

  “I imagine there’s a bed somewhere,” she said.

  “The next room.”

  “Don’t you think you ought to take me there?” she said.

  “Indeed.” He gathered enough wits to stand and help her up. And now, he could pull her flush against him, from shoulders to pelvis, and kiss her again. Again, their mouths fit together as if made for the purpose. Only now, as the caress went deeper, she circled her arms around him, and before he realized her destination, she’d cupped his buttocks and squeezed. He reacted automatically by jumping.

  “Did I startle you?” she asked.

  “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “You have a sweet tush,” she said. “Firm and round. I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

  Thank heaven she hadn’t done it during the reception. Casey had let loose with a few choice words at a ball that had almost broken her and Kurt up. Was Felice the exception and the rest of American womanhood a bit off?

  A thought occurred to him…he’d never been in control of the path of their relationship, if you could call something so new and casual a relationship. True, he’d asked her to dance, but after that, she’d taken over. Her assertiveness had its charm, more or less, but he didn’t normally conduct affairs without being able to make decisions. Mutual seduction had sounded good at the time, but she constantly kept him off balance.

  “Something wrong?” she said.

  “No,” he answered. A bit too loudly, as if to convince himself more than her.

  “As my granny used to say ‘Be honest with the still or the whisky will turn sour.’”

  “Still?” he said. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Just an expression,” she said.

  He could only stare at her. “Does your grandmother operate a still?”

  “Course not.” She waved a hand at him. “But what if she did? Your daddy makes brandy.”

  “He has it made,” he said. “By monks.”

  “People do what they have to, Rick.”

  All right, what did that mean? “Does your family have to make their own liquor?”

  She took a step backward and crossed her arms over her chest. “My father owns a lot of Savannah’s prime real estate and two hotel chains. We don’t have to make our own moonshine.”

  “I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess I don’t understand things American as much as I thought I did.”

  “If you’re going to get upset at every little thing my granny said, this friendship is not going to work.”

  Delightful. They were back to friendship. What kind of friends kissed the way they did? Or had a few minutes ago. “Forget I said anything.”

  “Forgotten. Now do you want to show me the bedroom, or should I tippy-toe back to my own?”

  He gestured toward the other room. “Lead on MacDuff.”

  She did, with the posture and stature of the Queen of Sheba. She’d won that round, although for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom why this felt like a battle. He followed because, despite that little discussion, his erection hadn’t subsided one bit. Perhaps it liked a challenge. It certainly had one in Ms. Dixie Anne Beaumont.

  By the time he entered the bedroom, she’d shed her robe and now wore nothing but her negligee. If he’d had any doubt about wanting her, the uncertainty evaporated in an instant. Long enough to reach her toes, the gown fit her body with a precision that showed off every curve. Better yet, it had lace inserts that revealed most of her breasts and continued downward in a V, stopping just above her pelvis. She must have had it made for her so it fit in all the right places. And she’d designed it for one function...to drive any man who saw her in it wild with lust.

  The effect worked on him. He stood, immobile for a moment as his erection went from stiff to throbbing. Where to begin with all those womanly curves? One thing for sure, he’d have her thighs around his ears sometime in the next few minutes.

  Then, she did the oddest thing. She attempted to cover herself, one arm across her breasts and the other over her crotch, and he couldn’t even see anything there.

  “Dixie?” he said. “Is something wrong?”

  “With me? Oh, hell no.” She laughed, but the sound came out forced. “Just a few girlish jitters. Everyone has those, don’t they? I mean, girls do. Guys don’t, do they? They just go for what they want.”

  Babbling. She was nervous. This bold woman who’d as much as propositioned him had suddenly become shy. Another dimension of her to ponder, but some other time. Right now, the blood flow to his cock had shut down the higher centers of his brain.

  He did the only logical thing. He went to her and put his arms around her. “Why should you have jitters?”

  “No reason at all.” That came out a little too loud. “I guess I could lose a few pounds, but that’s true of most folks. Well, not you. You’re pretty lean.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He kissed her. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “But—”

  “Hush.” He kissed her again, this time more deeply. Psychology lost out to chemistry as their bodies took over the controls. He tugged her against him and ran his palms down her back to her lush derriere. Breasts were certainly nice, but nothing could match a nicely-rounded female butt for sex appeal. And she had it in spades.

  Her lips never leaving his, she made enough space between them to untie the belt of his robe. He had to let her go so she could push the garment over his shoulders and down his arms. When he tried to embrace her again, she moved her hands to his chest and began unbuttoning the top of his pajamas. As she did, she nuzzled the area just beneath his chin and pressed kisses along his jaw.

  “I love a clean-shaven man,” she said in a husky purr. “And you smell so good.”

  “Glad you think so.” And doubly glad he’d made good use of his razor while waiting for her.

  “You’re about the sexiest thing on two feet,” she said.

  He might argue that point if her caresses hadn’t felt so damned good. He’d kissed women’s throats often enough but never imagined he’d respond so hotly to have it done to him. Already his libido was getting set to boil over. He’d have to keep his wits about him if he wanted to make this last, and when he had the woman of his erotic dreams in his bedroom, he definitely wanted to make this last.

  When she had the pajama top off him, she reached to the draw string of the pants. In another moment, she’d have him naked, and he hadn’t seen her yet. So, he stilled her hands and bunched up the fabric of her gown in his fists, finally pulling it over her head and allowing it to fall to the floor.

  All the air whooshed out of him at the sight of her. In his studies, he’d seen every great painting going back centuries. None of them approached the reality of this woman. Soft skin everywhere, scented with roses. With a groan, he pulled her toward him so he could nibble at her shoulder and then the crook of her neck. As he did, he cupped one of her breasts and ran his thumb over the nipple. Already hard, the little bud stiffened even further.

  When she swayed, he caught her and bent to take the other nipple into his mouth. Now he was loving both her breasts, and she responded with soft, rapid breathing that told of her own escalating arousal.

  He could take her to bed now and set about the work of devouring her body. He could hear her cries build to a crescendo signaling her orgasms. Then he could give her another and another, spending the whole night discovering what made her hot and what made her even hotter. Oh, yes, he’d have her several times before the sun came up. They’d be dragging all tomorrow, but they’d be grinning, too.

  Before he could follow through on that plan, she lifted his head and gave him a brief kiss. “No fair. I’m naked, and you’re still wearing pants.”

  “Pajamas.”

  “Same thing.” She unfastened the drawstring and pushed the pajama bottoms over his hips. “And there’s a certain gentleman whose acquaintance I’m eager to make.”

  “He feels the same way.”

  “Well, then, let’s make some introductions.” She reached down and circled her fingers around his shaft. “Why, here he is.”

  “Oh, God…”

  She knelt in front of him, now petting his cock with both hands. “What a fine fellow he is.”

  “Easy.”

  “Where this is concerned, I plan to be very easy.” She licked the head for a moment and then slid her lips over it and sucked.

  The heat, the wetness, the pressure. What a wicked combination. Other women had given him oral sex, but no one else did it with the complete delight this woman did. He’d do the same for her, of course, so he ought to simply let himself enjoy it, but she’d snap his control if he let her, and that could not happen.

  Still he couldn’t resist watching her, even though his eyes didn’t focus completely. She pumped his shaft as her head moved to take more of him and then retreated. Each time she did, his flesh emerged moist from her caresses and growing livid in color. She had him close…too close.

  “Dixie, stop,” he said while he could still talk. “Gott, stop.”

  She sat back on her heels, still grasping his cock, but thank heaven, no longer sucking on it. “Are you sure?”

  He had to work to get air into his lungs. “Do you know what you were doing to me?”

  “I have an idea.”

  “Let me do the same for you so you’ll have an even better idea.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I need to do it very much.”

  He bent to help her up and to make sure she had no more designs on his cock, at least for now. He’d already turned down the covers, so he gestured for her to slide in ahead of him.

  Once they were snuggled up again, this time with nothing separating their bodies, he started with another kiss. The others had been exciting enough. This one proved incendiary. A fire raged inside him, creating heat enough to warm both of them. And as he continued, making pass after pass of his lips over hers, she pressed her body against his—her breasts to his chest, and the pillow of her belly against his cock. He could surely lose himself in her, and her soft moans said she had already surrendered herself to him. The knowledge humbled him. He wouldn’t disappoint her. If he could, he’d make this the most memorable night of her life.

  So as sweet as her lips were and as thoroughly as they’d drugged him nearly into oblivion, he broke off the kiss to start his explorations.

  The skin of her neck felt like velvet beneath his lips, and as he proceeded, she let out the satisfied sigh of a woman indulging herself in the touch of her lover. He went downward, skimming her throat to her collar bone, finding more softness and breathing in her perfume. Now he could give her breasts the treatment they deserved. He took one in each hand and massaged them, cupping and releasing. Perhaps he’d never given these treasures of a woman’s body the appreciation they warranted, or perhaps only this woman’s breasts deserved such reverence. He moved from one peak to the other, sucking gently and toying with the stiff flesh with his tongue.

  Now moans punctuated her rapid breathing. A sure sign she loved the treatment but needed more. He could take care of that.

  Still lower, he traced her ribs with his fingertips and finally rested his face against her belly. Her mound lay only inches away so he stroked the curling hairs there and dipped his fingers between the lips to find her clitoris. When he touched it, she shuddered and let out a cry. The bud was hard and distended, exquisitely full of nerve endings. Any man who failed to make the tiny organ work for his lover was a fool or worse. He was no fool.

  He continued brushing it and then pressing against it until her hips did a sort of dance against his fingers, seeking more contact. Contact that he’d happily give her.

  Finally, he took his place between her legs, her thighs exactly where he’d fantasized them being. He parted the petals of her sex and found the greatest treasure of her body. One lick had her gasping.

  “Rick!” she cried. “Oh, God, I’m going to…”

  “I know.” No more delaying. He could play with her body all night, and he would, but she was aroused enough that toying with her would be cruel. He ran his tongue over her clitoris in a steady rhythm. Her cries told him he’d succeeded giving her the ultimate in female pleasure, and his heart filled with pride. His own release would come later, once he’d satisfied her completely.

  She reached the peek quickly, exactly what he’d worked for. After a few more moments of constant friction against the most sensitive part of her body, her voice rose in pitch, building to a shout. Holding her fast against his face, he gave her the last strokes that would send her soaring. She climaxed for the longest time, and he kept up the pressure until a small sob told him she’d finished. Then he rested his face against her thigh and let her savor the post-orgasm glow.

  He’d have to find the same release soon or go mad from wanting her. He could normally control his arousal to wait for his lover, but this woman had some magic about her that reached inside to every male part of him. The desire to protect, certainly, and the equal desire to possess. So, when she reached down and touched his face, he kissed her fingers and then scooted upward to reach into a drawer in the bedside table.

  He found one of the square packets, tore it open, and unfurled the condom over his rigid cock. This time when she parted her legs, he settled his hips between them and slid the tip of his erection between the folds of her pussy.

  “Oh my Lord in heaven,” she said, the honey of the American South coloring her voice. “I never felt the like.”

  “Neither have I.” He wouldn’t normally say something like that. He was always honest with his lovers. But as he sank into her all the way to the hilt, the truth of his words hit him like a brick. Even with the condom as a barrier, her body felt like home, as though he belonged here and all the other times with the other women had amounted to no more than prelude.

  His body took over now, unable to hold back any longer. He thrust hard and fast into her. Given the choice, he would have made the lovemaking last longer, but his mind had no say in the matter.