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movie,” he said.
           “ Tom Jones ?” She watched him fork another shrimp and offer it to her, only this time instead of waiting for her to finish, he bit into the other end. As they slowly chewed toward the center, he slid the fork out and tossed in onto the table. Their lips met in the middle, tasting of sweet shellfish and salty caviar. After a quick brush that left every nerve end in her body zinging, he took her wineglass and offered her a sip. She drank. Then, he turned the glass to the exact spot she'd sipped from and took a swallow, dark hooded eyes fixed on her lips.
           “I guess some things are worth waiting for,” she finally managed to whisper.
           “Yes,” he replied, placing the wineglass on the table and raising his fingertips to trace the bow of her lips. When her tongue darted out and caressed the pad of his index finger, he inhaled sharply. “I think we've waited long enough.”
           “Oh, yes,” she breathed, but then her eyes grew round, her cheeks pink once more, as she pressed one hand to his chest, holding him off. “Do you have...that is...er—”
           “I used to be a Boy Scout,” he said, withdrawing a condom from his shirt pocket and laying it on the table beside them, charmed by the way she ducked her head shyly. “Now...where were we? Ah, yes.” Jeff reached up and began unfastening the jeweled combs holding her hair, letting the long, pale copper strands fall heavily around her shoulders. He took one silky curl and raised it to his lips, rubbing it sensuously across his cheek. “You have lovely hair. Never cut it, please?”
           “When you put it that way, how could I?” she replied as she melted into his embrace. They fell back on the pillows, hands and mouths caressing, exploring, devouring. Gilly could feel the warmth of his palm glide over her calf and the curve of her hip as he slowly pulled up the silk caftan, revealing her legs and the tiny bit of gold silk that comprised her panties. When his hand gently snapped the elastic, her hips arched reflexively.
           “It's been so long...” Her words, low and breathless, faded away.
           “Then we'll go slow,” he murmured against the curve of her shoulder.
           “But not too slow,” she whispered, unbuttoning his shirt and nuzzling her way through the cunning pattern of hair on his chest.
           When her tongue circled a hard male nipple, he growled low and his hands glided up to cup her breasts. “Mmm, no bra. I didn't think so.”
           “I used to be a Girl Scout...I came prepared, too,” she said, pushing her breasts into the exquisite caresses of his fingertips and palms.
           “Oh, you'll come, all right, over and over if I have my way.”
           “Do have your way with me, sir,” she whispered, then added with a low chuckle as she began unzipping his fly, “and I'll have mine with you.” He was as big and hard as the fireplace poker, as hot to her touch as the flames. When she pulled his erection from his jeans and began stroking it, he made a fierce sound deep in his throat that thrilled her.
           If this kept up, he'd lose it before they went much further. Jeff remembered a cardinal rule and focused on it. “Shoes first,” he whispered hoarsely, removing her busy hand. He sat up to pull off his loafers and socks. Then he gathered the soft folds of her caftan and pulled it over her head.
           She raised her arms as the caftan floated to the carpet behind her, and he studied the slender perfection of her body. The pose emphasized the pert thrust of her breasts. They were not large, but neither were they small, just perfectly proportioned, high and firm, with nipples of palest pink, now crinkled into spiky little points, begging for his mouth.
           The heat of his breath sent shivers of delight over her as he opened his lips to take one achy nipple, drawing it in