expectation.
“I’m not God,” she whispered. “I…”
“You are to Elise.”
His warm hands closed around her upper arms,
his strangely beautiful gaze burned into hers, demanding things she
didn’t understand, stirring feelings she wasn’t ready to feel.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Not good enough!”
Tension built within her, tightening and
twisting until she wanted to scream, had to lash out. She hit his
chest. He ignored her. “What do you want me to do?” she demanded.
“I’m not a surgeon. I can’t grab one off the shelf and install it
on your kitchen table!”
He moved closer.
Tears blurred her vision. She blinked
furiously.
“She needs you, Tuesday.” His voice, rough
with emotion and determination played across her senses, like a
physical touch. “You’re her only hope.”
Hope!
Damn him. Those haunted eyes, in that
delicate face… Tuesday sobbed. Her tears escaped. “I’ll—try.”
“Not good enough.” His tone was gentle now.
He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. His
lips touched the corner of her mouth.
No! Not now. This wasn’t fair. Her emotions
were too raw. She couldn’t resist his tenderness.
Everything within her that was feminine and
soft pulsed to life…yearning. He was masculine and strong—and just
a touch away.
“I’ll—”
He cut off her words with his mouth,
wrapping her firmly in his arms. She opened for him, hungry, yet
vulnerable. He wanted too much, expected too much. She couldn’t
think when he touched her. Didn’t want to think. Trembling, she
sank her fingers into his thick hair and ventured into his mouth
with her tongue.
This was madness. She was falling into his
trap, allowing him to manipulate her.
It had been years since she felt truly
alive. How had he known where to strike? It was almost as if… She’d
heard the rumors, everyone had heard about the experiments. Was it
possible? Could Marc be a genetic anomaly, able to sense her
emotions and hear her thoughts?
“Marc.” She sighed his name as his mouth
moved to the underside of her jaw. “You don’t have to do this.” His
hand cupped her breast and she instinctively arched into the touch,
needing it so badly she trembled.
“This isn’t…like that.” His moist breath
fanned her skin, sending tingles spiraling deep into her body. “I
want to touch you. No, I need this.”
Part of her still suspected he was just
telling her what she wanted to hear, but his thumb found her nipple
and she no longer cared. She felt alive! She felt desired. She felt .
He slipped her zipper down and pulled her
dress along her arms, trapping her elbows against her waist. The
deep rose lace of her bra offset her ivory skin. A sound
suspiciously like a growl escaped his throat. He traced the
scalloped edge of the bra with just his fingertip, then spiraled
inward until he circled her nipple. It tingled and tightened
against the lace. The gentle abrading made her want to squirm, but
she held perfectly still, enjoying every nuance of sensation.
He cupped her breast again, the heat of his
palm searing her skin with so little left between them.
Suddenly, she caught his wrist. “Marc, I
don’t want you to do this if… I don’t want… I mean I do, but—”
He put his finger over her lips. “Don’t.
Don’t think. Don’t rationalize. Just feel. For once in your life,
just let yourself feel.”
And she felt. She felt the subtle tightening
and then the merciful release as he unfastened her bra. She felt
his heated breath against her shoulder as he guided her arms from
the wide straps of her sundress, and finally the tantalizing glide
of his mouth against her collarbone.
“Your breasts are unbelievable,” he
whispered, his tongue stroking the silken curve. “It should be a
crime to cover them up.” He chuckled. “With anything but my
hands…or my mouth.”
His hands caressed, cupping and squeezing,
stroking and lifting her breasts, while she whimpered in
“I’m not God,” she whispered. “I…”
“You are to Elise.”
His warm hands closed around her upper arms,
his strangely beautiful gaze burned into hers, demanding things she
didn’t understand, stirring feelings she wasn’t ready to feel.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Not good enough!”
Tension built within her, tightening and
twisting until she wanted to scream, had to lash out. She hit his
chest. He ignored her. “What do you want me to do?” she demanded.
“I’m not a surgeon. I can’t grab one off the shelf and install it
on your kitchen table!”
He moved closer.
Tears blurred her vision. She blinked
furiously.
“She needs you, Tuesday.” His voice, rough
with emotion and determination played across her senses, like a
physical touch. “You’re her only hope.”
Hope!
Damn him. Those haunted eyes, in that
delicate face… Tuesday sobbed. Her tears escaped. “I’ll—try.”
“Not good enough.” His tone was gentle now.
He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away her tears. His
lips touched the corner of her mouth.
No! Not now. This wasn’t fair. Her emotions
were too raw. She couldn’t resist his tenderness.
Everything within her that was feminine and
soft pulsed to life…yearning. He was masculine and strong—and just
a touch away.
“I’ll—”
He cut off her words with his mouth,
wrapping her firmly in his arms. She opened for him, hungry, yet
vulnerable. He wanted too much, expected too much. She couldn’t
think when he touched her. Didn’t want to think. Trembling, she
sank her fingers into his thick hair and ventured into his mouth
with her tongue.
This was madness. She was falling into his
trap, allowing him to manipulate her.
It had been years since she felt truly
alive. How had he known where to strike? It was almost as if… She’d
heard the rumors, everyone had heard about the experiments. Was it
possible? Could Marc be a genetic anomaly, able to sense her
emotions and hear her thoughts?
“Marc.” She sighed his name as his mouth
moved to the underside of her jaw. “You don’t have to do this.” His
hand cupped her breast and she instinctively arched into the touch,
needing it so badly she trembled.
“This isn’t…like that.” His moist breath
fanned her skin, sending tingles spiraling deep into her body. “I
want to touch you. No, I need this.”
Part of her still suspected he was just
telling her what she wanted to hear, but his thumb found her nipple
and she no longer cared. She felt alive! She felt desired. She felt .
He slipped her zipper down and pulled her
dress along her arms, trapping her elbows against her waist. The
deep rose lace of her bra offset her ivory skin. A sound
suspiciously like a growl escaped his throat. He traced the
scalloped edge of the bra with just his fingertip, then spiraled
inward until he circled her nipple. It tingled and tightened
against the lace. The gentle abrading made her want to squirm, but
she held perfectly still, enjoying every nuance of sensation.
He cupped her breast again, the heat of his
palm searing her skin with so little left between them.
Suddenly, she caught his wrist. “Marc, I
don’t want you to do this if… I don’t want… I mean I do, but—”
He put his finger over her lips. “Don’t.
Don’t think. Don’t rationalize. Just feel. For once in your life,
just let yourself feel.”
And she felt. She felt the subtle tightening
and then the merciful release as he unfastened her bra. She felt
his heated breath against her shoulder as he guided her arms from
the wide straps of her sundress, and finally the tantalizing glide
of his mouth against her collarbone.
“Your breasts are unbelievable,” he
whispered, his tongue stroking the silken curve. “It should be a
crime to cover them up.” He chuckled. “With anything but my
hands…or my mouth.”
His hands caressed, cupping and squeezing,
stroking and lifting her breasts, while she whimpered in
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