“Ah, Gypsy, you don’t play fair,” he murmured against her lips, feathering the curve of her mouth with his lips, with the tip of his tongue. “This is supposed to be a blitzkrieg, not a siege.” His hands slid intimately over her body.
Molded against him, Courtney felt the burgeoning pressure of his thighs against her. Her breasts were cushioning the muscular wall of his chest. Maybe she was going to have to cling to him for support after all, for her legs felt almost too weak for her to remain standing.
“Open your mouth for me, Courtney.” Connor’s voice was deep and thick.
His words, bold, intimate and demanding, sent her pulse rate out of control. Sweet, hot rivers of sensation flowed
through her, deep and thrilling. If she were to let go, reason and willpower would be swept away in those seductive currents. The temptation to cede all control, to close her eyes and open her mouth and let him take her over, was almost irresistible.
Alarmingly so. She was just a hairbreadth away from allowing herself to be carried away by a tide of passion, when the shock of surrender set her metaphorically, but firmly, back on high ground.
As an army brat who’d moved from place to place and-friend to friend, she had become independent and self-reliant at an early age. Those character traits, coupled by her strong will and fierce penchant for self-control, did not make it easy for her to acknowledge that she was dangerously close to submission, however sublime it promised to be.
Her dark eyes, heavy-lidded and half-closed, snapped wide open. She stared up at Connor, who was watching her with intense sea-green eyes. He wanted her. There could be no denying the blatant physical evidence of his desire. But she saw more than passion glittering in those beautiful eyes of his—she saw challenge as well. And if she were to melt ' into him and kiss him the way he wanted —the way she wanted him to !—that challenge would be replaced by pure male triumph.
She recognized in that instant that Connor McKay had a will as strong as her own, that his self-control rivaled, maybe even surpassed, hers. For he was not the one on the verge of giving into the heady temptation of passion. He was in full control of himself, of her, and of this premeditated little tryst in the middle of a fake forest.
Courtney stiffened. “Give it up, Connor,’ ’ she said tautly. “It’s not going to work.”
Their faces were so close, their lips an inch apart. When Connor smiled, she could almost feel the warm, full curve of his mouth on hers. She wanted to feel it. Courtney was aghast at just how badly she wanted it.
“Give up now? Why should I, Gypsy? I have you right where I want you—and right where you want to be.”
She was furious, partly with him but mostly with her newly discovered sensual self, who was proving to be an embarrassingly unreliable ally. And she would never admit that his arrogant taunt happened to be the truth.
“Your ego must be the size of Jupiter if you believe that I want to be manhandled in the midst of a bunch of potted trees.” She flung the words at him, seething with temper. “Furthermore, I happen to be here with another man, remember?”
It was about time she remembered that fact, Courtney scolded herself. She’d been so absorbed with Connor, she’d scarcely given poor morose Emery a thought.
Connor frowned. The mere mention of her date sent flames of jealousy roaring through him. And he was not a jealous man!
“You want me,” he growled. “You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I’ll admit that you threw me off balance with your seduction skills. They were quite effective—for a minute or two. Then I recovered.”
“A minute or two?” Connor repeated indignantly. He glared into her upturned, defiant small face. Unfortunately it seemed that she actually had had a complete recovery from the soft, submissive woman she’d been only a few moments ago. Right before his eyes, she had turned
Molded against him, Courtney felt the burgeoning pressure of his thighs against her. Her breasts were cushioning the muscular wall of his chest. Maybe she was going to have to cling to him for support after all, for her legs felt almost too weak for her to remain standing.
“Open your mouth for me, Courtney.” Connor’s voice was deep and thick.
His words, bold, intimate and demanding, sent her pulse rate out of control. Sweet, hot rivers of sensation flowed
through her, deep and thrilling. If she were to let go, reason and willpower would be swept away in those seductive currents. The temptation to cede all control, to close her eyes and open her mouth and let him take her over, was almost irresistible.
Alarmingly so. She was just a hairbreadth away from allowing herself to be carried away by a tide of passion, when the shock of surrender set her metaphorically, but firmly, back on high ground.
As an army brat who’d moved from place to place and-friend to friend, she had become independent and self-reliant at an early age. Those character traits, coupled by her strong will and fierce penchant for self-control, did not make it easy for her to acknowledge that she was dangerously close to submission, however sublime it promised to be.
Her dark eyes, heavy-lidded and half-closed, snapped wide open. She stared up at Connor, who was watching her with intense sea-green eyes. He wanted her. There could be no denying the blatant physical evidence of his desire. But she saw more than passion glittering in those beautiful eyes of his—she saw challenge as well. And if she were to melt ' into him and kiss him the way he wanted —the way she wanted him to !—that challenge would be replaced by pure male triumph.
She recognized in that instant that Connor McKay had a will as strong as her own, that his self-control rivaled, maybe even surpassed, hers. For he was not the one on the verge of giving into the heady temptation of passion. He was in full control of himself, of her, and of this premeditated little tryst in the middle of a fake forest.
Courtney stiffened. “Give it up, Connor,’ ’ she said tautly. “It’s not going to work.”
Their faces were so close, their lips an inch apart. When Connor smiled, she could almost feel the warm, full curve of his mouth on hers. She wanted to feel it. Courtney was aghast at just how badly she wanted it.
“Give up now? Why should I, Gypsy? I have you right where I want you—and right where you want to be.”
She was furious, partly with him but mostly with her newly discovered sensual self, who was proving to be an embarrassingly unreliable ally. And she would never admit that his arrogant taunt happened to be the truth.
“Your ego must be the size of Jupiter if you believe that I want to be manhandled in the midst of a bunch of potted trees.” She flung the words at him, seething with temper. “Furthermore, I happen to be here with another man, remember?”
It was about time she remembered that fact, Courtney scolded herself. She’d been so absorbed with Connor, she’d scarcely given poor morose Emery a thought.
Connor frowned. The mere mention of her date sent flames of jealousy roaring through him. And he was not a jealous man!
“You want me,” he growled. “You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
“I’ll admit that you threw me off balance with your seduction skills. They were quite effective—for a minute or two. Then I recovered.”
“A minute or two?” Connor repeated indignantly. He glared into her upturned, defiant small face. Unfortunately it seemed that she actually had had a complete recovery from the soft, submissive woman she’d been only a few moments ago. Right before his eyes, she had turned
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