magic.”
She forced herself not to react to anything. She spread her fingers flat on the sofa and concentrated on the fabric against her skin. Feeling nothing was familiar and safe, and right now she wasn’t safe. His finger reached her chin, only it wasn’t his fingertip that touched her but the back of his hand, and she fell further into disastrous arousal.
“We’ll call him and find out. After.”
“After what?” The moment the words left her mouth she got what he meant. What a stupid, boneheaded thing to say. She didn’t have much time to feel like an idiot, though.
He kissed her, hard and fast. After a stunned moment during which her brain was less useful than mush, she understood one thing: she wasn’t spinning out of control. Not even a glimmer of free fall. And she felt wonderful and frightened and terrifyingly good.
She tilted her chin toward him and let it happen. Tongues got involved. The immediacy of her physical reaction threatened to overwhelm her. She savored the feel of his mouth, the taste of him, the sandy scent, her sense of how much bigger he was than her. Reactions she barely recognized flowed through her. A river of desire that unsettled her at the same time she wanted more. More and more.
When he leaned back from that, his smile remained smug, and she didn’t care. She really didn’t. “After I fuck your brains out.”
She brushed a finger over the stubble of his goatee, then filled her free hand with his black, black hair, and he dipped his head to make that easier for her. A little too late, she realized she’d obliterated what was left of the physical barrier between them. Verbal banter she could pretend was no big deal. Touching someone the way she was touching Khunbish changed everything.
Then again, she wasn’t getting even a flicker from him.
He moved his lower body closer to her, all that hard male flesh. He focused on her chest, and she had two opposite reactions: that his stare was both crude and unbearably arousing. He dragged his attention to her face, and the look was pure heat. She lifted her hand from the couch and set her palm on his upper chest. Nothing happened except between her legs. She ached for him there. She left her hand where it was. His smug grin broadened.
“I know you’re keeping me out of your head, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t get through. Or that I wouldn’t lose control.”
“God, I hope so.”
She pushed against his chest. Not very hard, though. “We have to be sure. Bad things happen when I lose control.”
His grin was pure evil. “Lucky me.”
“No. Not lucky you.” She made a fist of her hand on his chest. My God, that was solid muscle under her hand. How, when he wasn’t human? “You saw what happened to Jack. I lost it for a second, and now he’s dead. Trust me, orgasms aren’t good for me.”
He frowned. “What, did you just lie there while Michael got himself off?”
“It wasn’t like that.” Still not a flicker from him. What if he was right? What if this was safe? With her other hand, she brushed his hair over his shoulder, but most of it fell back, cool against her fingers, sliding over her skin. “As long as I have control of myself, everything’s okay. I can do the things he likes.”
He kept scowling. “Did he know you were doing that?”
“Of course.”
“Fucking bastard.”
“We can be intimate without me having an orgasm.”
He pushed back enough that her hand fell away from his chest. He gaped at her. “Are you saying he didn’t get you off? Ever?”
“You don’t understand.” She disentangled her fingers from his hair, frustrated. Irritated. “We couldn’t risk me feeling much. It wouldn’t have been safe for him otherwise.”
“You just closed your eyes, is that what you’re saying?”
She shrugged. “It was the only time someone touched me more than accidentally.”
“Jesus, Fensic. That just isn’t right. It’s criminal, that’s what it is.”
“It had to be that
She forced herself not to react to anything. She spread her fingers flat on the sofa and concentrated on the fabric against her skin. Feeling nothing was familiar and safe, and right now she wasn’t safe. His finger reached her chin, only it wasn’t his fingertip that touched her but the back of his hand, and she fell further into disastrous arousal.
“We’ll call him and find out. After.”
“After what?” The moment the words left her mouth she got what he meant. What a stupid, boneheaded thing to say. She didn’t have much time to feel like an idiot, though.
He kissed her, hard and fast. After a stunned moment during which her brain was less useful than mush, she understood one thing: she wasn’t spinning out of control. Not even a glimmer of free fall. And she felt wonderful and frightened and terrifyingly good.
She tilted her chin toward him and let it happen. Tongues got involved. The immediacy of her physical reaction threatened to overwhelm her. She savored the feel of his mouth, the taste of him, the sandy scent, her sense of how much bigger he was than her. Reactions she barely recognized flowed through her. A river of desire that unsettled her at the same time she wanted more. More and more.
When he leaned back from that, his smile remained smug, and she didn’t care. She really didn’t. “After I fuck your brains out.”
She brushed a finger over the stubble of his goatee, then filled her free hand with his black, black hair, and he dipped his head to make that easier for her. A little too late, she realized she’d obliterated what was left of the physical barrier between them. Verbal banter she could pretend was no big deal. Touching someone the way she was touching Khunbish changed everything.
Then again, she wasn’t getting even a flicker from him.
He moved his lower body closer to her, all that hard male flesh. He focused on her chest, and she had two opposite reactions: that his stare was both crude and unbearably arousing. He dragged his attention to her face, and the look was pure heat. She lifted her hand from the couch and set her palm on his upper chest. Nothing happened except between her legs. She ached for him there. She left her hand where it was. His smug grin broadened.
“I know you’re keeping me out of your head, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t get through. Or that I wouldn’t lose control.”
“God, I hope so.”
She pushed against his chest. Not very hard, though. “We have to be sure. Bad things happen when I lose control.”
His grin was pure evil. “Lucky me.”
“No. Not lucky you.” She made a fist of her hand on his chest. My God, that was solid muscle under her hand. How, when he wasn’t human? “You saw what happened to Jack. I lost it for a second, and now he’s dead. Trust me, orgasms aren’t good for me.”
He frowned. “What, did you just lie there while Michael got himself off?”
“It wasn’t like that.” Still not a flicker from him. What if he was right? What if this was safe? With her other hand, she brushed his hair over his shoulder, but most of it fell back, cool against her fingers, sliding over her skin. “As long as I have control of myself, everything’s okay. I can do the things he likes.”
He kept scowling. “Did he know you were doing that?”
“Of course.”
“Fucking bastard.”
“We can be intimate without me having an orgasm.”
He pushed back enough that her hand fell away from his chest. He gaped at her. “Are you saying he didn’t get you off? Ever?”
“You don’t understand.” She disentangled her fingers from his hair, frustrated. Irritated. “We couldn’t risk me feeling much. It wouldn’t have been safe for him otherwise.”
“You just closed your eyes, is that what you’re saying?”
She shrugged. “It was the only time someone touched me more than accidentally.”
“Jesus, Fensic. That just isn’t right. It’s criminal, that’s what it is.”
“It had to be that
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