Sexy Without the Sex from 99 Problems

Although I got the title from the song by Hugo (and others, but I like his version) this isn't anything like the song. 

Portia Bledsoe is new in town. She inherited a house and property from a great-uncle she barely knew. She meets Wood Cirocco through her friendly neighbor, Carl—he's Carl's nephew. They immediately hit it off.

Wood brought my hand to his mouth, brushing the base of my thumb with his lips. I shivered, closing my eyes. He kissed me so softly, it took a moment to register. At first, it was the warmth of his breath, followed by the lightest brush of skin on skin. He took my face in his hands, drawing me close, as his mouth possessed mine.
Gasping delightedly, I stepped closer, pressing my body against his. My fingers snaked in his hair, enjoying the thick, curly tangle. He lit fires in me I didn't know existed until I met him. Never, in our entire relationship, did Cory make me feel what Wood managed to do in less than two days. His lean, muscular body held promises of the delights to come, if only I would give in to my own desire and take him to bed.
It would be so easy to shuffle those twenty odd feet to the guest bedroom and rip his clothing off. But I knew I wouldn't. I'd never bedded a man I barely knew and I wasn't going to start now, but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy those delicious lips. We kissed what seemed like forever, for once, not interrupted. He held me close, his strong arms cradling my body, rubbing his hips on mine, making me very aware of the rest of him. I hungered for it, needed it!
With a gasp, I pushed his mouth away. Disheveled and panting, we stared at one another. Wood took a step back, the back of his hand brushed against his lips and he dropped his head. I stepped forward, touching his cheek. I couldn't help myself. I didn't want to break that connection. Something had happened between us that I couldn't explain and didn't want to.
The—the guys will be here—soon.” He cleared his throat, backing up another step. “I'm. . . .”
Don't you dare say you're sorry for that,” I warned.
He chuckled. “No. I was just going to finish getting dressed.” He backed another step, nearly colliding with the wall.
I suppose I should put on a bra,” I said without thinking. Dropping my head, I walked past him quickly.
Not on my account,” he said, catching my hand as I passed. “This isn't my imagination, is it?” He gestured between us.
No. Decidedly not.”
Good. That was good.”
Very good.”
He stepped toward me again, touching my cheek. He looked like he wanted to kiss me again. I wouldn't have minded, but someone banged on the door.

© 2015 Dellani Oakes


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