He'd changed last night's Dockers for a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs. Heat flashed through her as she recalled sitting on his lap and how hard he'd been for her. Oh, God, she couldn't help it. Her gaze went to his package, which filled the front of his jeans beautifully.
Her eyes flashed to his.
"You like?" he asked. The same words she said to him last night.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He was the same man, but different. And not only had the clothing changed, so had his demeanor. This Charlie was not the geeky schoolteacher or the helpful downstairs neighbor. This Charlie was a really hot guy. And from the way his blue eyes lasered her, he thought she was hot, too.
"Are you sober now?" His voice was taut.
"Huh?" She blinked. "Yeah."
"Good." Before Kim had time to wonder at his question or feel insulted by it, he stepped inside, kicked the door shut and hauled her into his arms.
He didn't so much as kiss her as devour her, as if he were taking up where they left off last night, before his conscience made him leave. Kim had no trouble catching up. The way he took charge made white-hot lust spear though her.
Their open mouths clung and their tongues battled each other for dominance. When Charlie grabbed her ass and lifted her, she obligingly wrapped her legs around his hips. He carried her to the armchair he sat on last night and fell onto it heavily. He pulled his mouth from hers to gasp for air.
And to ask a question. "Kim. Do you still want this?"
She stared at him. She couldn't blame alcohol for what was about to happen. Stone-cold sober, she knew exactly what she wanted. "Yes."