"Touch me," he said.

She wasn't sure where or how, but figured she couldn't really hurt him. She brushed her hands against the sprinkling of hair between his flat nipples. She traced the shape of his ribs and the width of his shoulders. She wondered what he would taste like, but couldn't bring herself to test his skin to find out.

After several minutes he stilled her hands. "Take off your sweater."

"Why?" she asked, her voice squeaking on the single syllable.

When he didn't answer, she swallowed hard. Okay, take off her sweater. No big deal. Hadn't she just promised herself she was going to do whatever he asked? Besides, if she took it off he might touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again, and wouldn't that be lovely?

She did as he requested and in the process realized he'd unfastened her bra. She didn't want to think about how awkward it must look as she tried to pull one piece of clothing off while attempting to keep another firmly plastered against her chest.

Finally she was able to pull her sweater over her head with one hand while the other held the bra against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She tossed the sweater on the floor.

"That, too," he said, tugging on the hook end of the undergarment.

"I can't," she said miserably.

"Why?"

She looked away. "They're too big. It's ugly. I always wanted those little perky b.r.e.a.s.t.s like you see in the magazine ads."

"Everything about you is beautiful."

She glared at him. "Oh yeah, right. Including the extra fifteen pounds. I'm stunning. Modeling agencies are pounding at the door to get me to work for them."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded as if he'd come to some conclusion. "Scoot up."

That she could do. She scooted a little closer.

"Close your eyes."

That request made her suspicious, but she did as he asked. Still, she didn't release her death grip on her bra. Fortunately he didn't try to take it away from her.

Instead, he placed his hands on her thighs. He stroked her from knee to hip bone. With each back-and-forth, his hands slipped closer and closer to the insides of her legs until at last his thumbs brushed over private places. She jumped.

"Keep your eyes closed," he said.

She found it difficult to breathe, but it was easy to not look. He kept his thumbs there, touching, pressing more than moving. He seemed to be looking for something. She was about to tell him there wasn't anything there when he found it.

He rubbed a tiny spot. A shudder raced through her, and goose b.u.mps broke out on her skin. What was that? Would he do it again? He would and he did. Several times he touched that magical place, caressing her until she was weak. Then he moved away and stroked her bare arms and shoulders.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s ached. There was no other word to describe the heavy sensation that filled them. Her nipples were tight. She needed relief, but didn't know what to do. She suspected Jordan had the answer. But that would mean letting him look at her. The battle was lost the moment he traced a single finger over the outside curve of her left breast. The soft touch was so sweet, she wanted to weep. Instead, she relaxed and let him pull the bra away.

Within fifteen seconds she wondered what she'd been fussing about. After a minute she decided she'd been a stupid fool.

He touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as if they were precious and objects of worship. Long fingers caressed every curve, every inch of sensitized skin. His thumbs teased her nipples, circling the tight peaks until she could think of nothing else but having him touch her like that for always.

"If I give you a million dollars, will you promise never to stop?" she asked.

"I'll promise without the million dollars," he whispered. "Why would I want to stop?"

She opened her eyes and glanced down. His tanned fingers contrasted with her pale skin. Somehow, with him touching her, she could believe she wasn't ugly there. When his thumbs and forefingers gently pinched her nipples and she saw, as well as felt, the delicious tug, her hips arched involuntarily.

Her breathing increased, and she didn't know why. Her skin was hot; her panties felt damp. Everything confused her, but it was wonderful.

When he urged her to stretch out next to him, she didn't protest. She lowered the bed so it was flat as he used a couple of pillows to support his back. He turned on his side so he faced her. Then he did the most amazing thing. He bent his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

The moist heat overwhelmed her. She whispered his name, then buried her hand in his hair to hold him in place. Unbelievable heat and longing filled her.

He suckled her breast, then moved to the other side and repeated the wondrous event. She barely noticed his hands slipping under her leggings and brushing against her bare skin. It was only when one of his fingers touched that magic spot between her legs that she realized what he was doing.

But then it was too late. He'd begun to move back and forth, then around. Speech was impossible. She half expected her heart to stop beating.

"Relax," Jordan whispered, then stuck his tongue in her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to make you feel good."

He was. Absolutely. She tried to tell him, but she couldn't.

He nibbled on her lobe. "Do you feel the pressure building?"

She nodded. It was incredible. Every fiber, every cell, focused on his fingers and what he was doing there.

"Have you ever felt anything like this before?"

"No," she gasped.

"Good. Just go with it." A spasm jerked her body. He chuckled. "It's not going to take very long."

She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but decided it didn't matter. He bent over her and kissed her. Their tongues danced. He drew her into his mouth and sucked. The quick spasm matched the rhythm between her legs. She thought she would die of the pleasure.

Then his hand shifted slightly. She became aware of an insistent, pleasurable pressure. She focused on it. Something she didn't understand swam just out of reach. Jordan broke the kiss, then bent over her breast. He stroked his tongue against her nipple. That was all she needed.

For a moment the world stopped, suspended on a point of pleasure so intense, she finally understood why lovers were willing to risk everything for this moment. Then time resumed, and the release crashed through her body. She gave herself up to it, riding it, feeling it, becoming one with the man at her side, knowing nothing would ever be the same again.

Jordan watched Holly's face, the flush that climbed from her chest to her cheeks, the way her lips parted as if she needed to draw in more air. At last her eyes fluttered open.

"Wow," she said reverently.

"Pretty amazing, huh?"

Her hand fluttered for a moment. "I need a new set of words to describe that."

He kissed her forehead. "I'm glad."

He was. Except for the intense, throbbing pressure in his groin, he felt great. He couldn't give Holly everything she deserved, but he had opened a door for her. He was pleased that she'd found pleasure in his arms.

He kissed her gently. "What about my dinner?"

She stirred. "Hmm, I'm hungry, too. Steak and baked potato. Give me fifteen minutes."