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Authors: Desiree Holt
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over,
and clamped it over her face.
Panicked,
she grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to pull it away, but even
one-handed he was stronger than she was. She wriggled frantically, trying to
pull her head back, but his hand stayed clamped against her face until finally
her hands fell away.
He
smiled to himself as he thought of the excitement ahead. His cock hardened and
his blood pulsed. Oh, yes. He was looking forward to this. The killing would
just be a bonus.
Chapter
Eight
The
shower helped ease the tension of the day. The tea and brandy did even more.
Pulling on shorts and an old Tampa Bay Buccaneers T-shirt, Dana settled herself
at the dining room table with a sandwich, a drink, and her briefcase. Her
laptop sat open in front of her, ready for input.
She
tried to clear her mind of everything except the project at hand, but Cole
Landry’s ruggedly severe face kept flashing across her internal television
screen. Thoughts that she’d never had—never wanted to have—about any
other man kept poking at her.
What
would it be like to have a man’s hands on her that she desired and didn’t fear?
Holding her breasts. Chafing her nipples. Taking those nipples into the wet
heat of his mouth. Laving them with his tongue.
Dana
shivered. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how things were done. God knows enough
men had tried to coax her into it, had tried their best, like Grant, to make it
work. But none of them had ever reached the icy core of her, frozen away all
these years.
Until
Cole Landry.
What
would she do if she found herself alone with him and the unfamiliar sensations
buzzed up through her? How would she react? She was at once apprehensive and
wanting.
And
stupid.
She
crossed her forearms on the table and rested her head on them. Maybe if she
closed her eyes for just a minute, she could gather her scattered thoughts.
****
She
knelt on her bed, unselfconsciously naked, and held out her arms to him. He’d
just kicked off his worn Western boots and stripped off his clothes—jeans and a
chambray shirt. He smelled of man and hay and horseflesh, a scent guaranteed to
charge her pheromones. Her eyes feasted on his incredible body. Solid.
Muscular. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and lean hips. Muscles
carefully sculpted beneath the taut skin. Dark curls scattered over the hard
wall of his chest, arrowing down to the thick nest at his groin.
And
jutting directly at her, a magnificent cock, the head dark and swollen.
“You
in a hurry, darlin’?” His sexy grin was positively lethal.
“Only
to get you over here.”
He
bore her down to the mattress under his weight, her breasts pressing against
his chest, the matte of hair tickling and abrading her nipples. Every nerve
under the surface of her skin vibrated with anticipation and the walls of her
pussy fluttered waiting for his cock.
“Miss
me?” he asked in his low drawl.
“Always.
You work too many hours.”
“Well,
tonight you’re gonna relax me.”
His
tongue outlined her mouth before brushing across her lips and gliding inside. Every
place it touched, heat burst forth and scorched its way through her body.
His
mouth was everywhere, brushing against her cheeks, the line of her jaw, her
neck. Sucking that very tender spot behind her ear. Biting it gently. Then the
hollow of her throat where her pulse beat like the wings of a trapped bird.
His
head dipped and he captured one nipple with his lips, pulling and nibbling at
it until it stiffened and peaked. Then the other one. His hand rhythmically
squeezed her breast. Electricity sparked through her, straight to her center
where she pulsed with unremitting need.
Her
hands smoothed over the taut flesh of his back, feeling the powerful play of
muscles beneath. The hot length of his cock against her thigh. The sensuous strength
of his body between her thighs.
His
mouth worked its way down her body to her navel, stopping to probe the furled
flesh with the tip
and clamped it over her face.
Panicked,
she grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to pull it away, but even
one-handed he was stronger than she was. She wriggled frantically, trying to
pull her head back, but his hand stayed clamped against her face until finally
her hands fell away.
He
smiled to himself as he thought of the excitement ahead. His cock hardened and
his blood pulsed. Oh, yes. He was looking forward to this. The killing would
just be a bonus.
Chapter
Eight
The
shower helped ease the tension of the day. The tea and brandy did even more.
Pulling on shorts and an old Tampa Bay Buccaneers T-shirt, Dana settled herself
at the dining room table with a sandwich, a drink, and her briefcase. Her
laptop sat open in front of her, ready for input.
She
tried to clear her mind of everything except the project at hand, but Cole
Landry’s ruggedly severe face kept flashing across her internal television
screen. Thoughts that she’d never had—never wanted to have—about any
other man kept poking at her.
What
would it be like to have a man’s hands on her that she desired and didn’t fear?
Holding her breasts. Chafing her nipples. Taking those nipples into the wet
heat of his mouth. Laving them with his tongue.
Dana
shivered. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how things were done. God knows enough
men had tried to coax her into it, had tried their best, like Grant, to make it
work. But none of them had ever reached the icy core of her, frozen away all
these years.
Until
Cole Landry.
What
would she do if she found herself alone with him and the unfamiliar sensations
buzzed up through her? How would she react? She was at once apprehensive and
wanting.
And
stupid.
She
crossed her forearms on the table and rested her head on them. Maybe if she
closed her eyes for just a minute, she could gather her scattered thoughts.
****
She
knelt on her bed, unselfconsciously naked, and held out her arms to him. He’d
just kicked off his worn Western boots and stripped off his clothes—jeans and a
chambray shirt. He smelled of man and hay and horseflesh, a scent guaranteed to
charge her pheromones. Her eyes feasted on his incredible body. Solid.
Muscular. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and lean hips. Muscles
carefully sculpted beneath the taut skin. Dark curls scattered over the hard
wall of his chest, arrowing down to the thick nest at his groin.
And
jutting directly at her, a magnificent cock, the head dark and swollen.
“You
in a hurry, darlin’?” His sexy grin was positively lethal.
“Only
to get you over here.”
He
bore her down to the mattress under his weight, her breasts pressing against
his chest, the matte of hair tickling and abrading her nipples. Every nerve
under the surface of her skin vibrated with anticipation and the walls of her
pussy fluttered waiting for his cock.
“Miss
me?” he asked in his low drawl.
“Always.
You work too many hours.”
“Well,
tonight you’re gonna relax me.”
His
tongue outlined her mouth before brushing across her lips and gliding inside. Every
place it touched, heat burst forth and scorched its way through her body.
His
mouth was everywhere, brushing against her cheeks, the line of her jaw, her
neck. Sucking that very tender spot behind her ear. Biting it gently. Then the
hollow of her throat where her pulse beat like the wings of a trapped bird.
His
head dipped and he captured one nipple with his lips, pulling and nibbling at
it until it stiffened and peaked. Then the other one. His hand rhythmically
squeezed her breast. Electricity sparked through her, straight to her center
where she pulsed with unremitting need.
Her
hands smoothed over the taut flesh of his back, feeling the powerful play of
muscles beneath. The hot length of his cock against her thigh. The sensuous strength
of his body between her thighs.
His
mouth worked its way down her body to her navel, stopping to probe the furled
flesh with the tip
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