I want you to put me down.”
His temper had cleared just enough for him to become distracted by the way she smelled. Coolly, quietly sexy. And turning her head so that their faces were close, so that their mouths nearly brushed, was her mistake, after all. What was a man supposed to do but take a good, long taste?
So he did, easily fitting his mouth over hers, patiently waiting out her first jolt of shock, greedily absorbing her quick hot burst of response.
Missed you.
He muttered it, or perhaps only thought it. She turned into him, her hands fisting in his hair as her mouth moved under his. A low purr sounded in her throat and shot fire straight to his loins.
The doors opened, remained wide, then started to close again before he managed to think clearly enough to block the movement with his shoulder.
She dragged her hands through his hair, fisted them again to keep his mouth on hers. Her heart had gone wild, pounding some primitive beat through her blood. Need, outrageous need, clawed after it.
When he swore, tore his mouth from hers, her lust-hazed mind tried to clear. “What?”
“Trying to get the damn key.” If he didn’t unlock the bloody door, get her inside, he thought he might very well end up taking her in the hall.
“What?” she said again, then pressed her hands to her face as reason struggled to surface. “Wait. This is—”
“There.” He shoved the door open, then simply turned and kicked it shut with his foot as he crushed his mouth to hers again.
“No, wait.”
“We’ll talk later.” He drew back, barely an inch, and his eyes, burning blue, stared into hers. “Now we’ll finish this.”
“No, we’ll …” She couldn’t get her breath, couldn’t quite get a grip on that slippery edge of reason. So for the first time in her life, she let it go. It looked as if she was going to take that wild, fast ride, after all.
“We’ll talk later,” she said breathlessly, and dragged his mouth back to hers.
He had to get his hands on her. He set her on her feet, braced her back against the door and moved those wide-palmed artist’s hands over her. She was willow slim, graceful, extraordinary. Then, tugging the sweater over her head, he traced the same path with his lips.
Fast and greedy, as if a part of him feared she would vanish or slip away. He wanted it all— the balletic curve of her shoulders, the lovely female swell of her breasts, the long, slender torso. Her skin, smooth as satin, went hot under his mouth.
He took her hips, hitched her off her feet again and began to steadily devour.
She cried out, her hands braced on his shoulders. Somehow her legs had wound themselves around his waist. Wild fists of need battered at her, pushing her into a narrow world where the heat was brutal and there was only one answer.
“Now. Right now.” The raw words burned her throat. Her fingers trembled as she yanked at his shirt. Desperate, she used her teeth on his neck.
Then they were on the floor, grappling, fighting with clothes, panting like animals as they groped for flesh. And flesh was damp, dewed with desire.
In a fierce and sudden move, he twisted, shifting her until they were face-to-face, torso-to-torso. His eyes were wildly blue as he lifted her hips. “Now,” he said, watching her face. “Right now.”
He filled her. She surrounded him. Time spun out, no movement, all sensation. Light poured through the windows, wide beams where dust motes danced. His heart pounded against hers, beat to beat. She tried to hold herself there, just there on that dangerous and delicious edge.
But her body craved more. She began to move.
She arched back, lost in the flood of fresh pleasure, moaning when he leaned in to lick at her skin, shuddering when his mouth closed hungrily over her breast.
As the pace quickened she rode with him, and gloried in it.
He couldn’t get enough. His hands raced up her back, then down again. The taste of her exploded inside him and only heightened a
His temper had cleared just enough for him to become distracted by the way she smelled. Coolly, quietly sexy. And turning her head so that their faces were close, so that their mouths nearly brushed, was her mistake, after all. What was a man supposed to do but take a good, long taste?
So he did, easily fitting his mouth over hers, patiently waiting out her first jolt of shock, greedily absorbing her quick hot burst of response.
Missed you.
He muttered it, or perhaps only thought it. She turned into him, her hands fisting in his hair as her mouth moved under his. A low purr sounded in her throat and shot fire straight to his loins.
The doors opened, remained wide, then started to close again before he managed to think clearly enough to block the movement with his shoulder.
She dragged her hands through his hair, fisted them again to keep his mouth on hers. Her heart had gone wild, pounding some primitive beat through her blood. Need, outrageous need, clawed after it.
When he swore, tore his mouth from hers, her lust-hazed mind tried to clear. “What?”
“Trying to get the damn key.” If he didn’t unlock the bloody door, get her inside, he thought he might very well end up taking her in the hall.
“What?” she said again, then pressed her hands to her face as reason struggled to surface. “Wait. This is—”
“There.” He shoved the door open, then simply turned and kicked it shut with his foot as he crushed his mouth to hers again.
“No, wait.”
“We’ll talk later.” He drew back, barely an inch, and his eyes, burning blue, stared into hers. “Now we’ll finish this.”
“No, we’ll …” She couldn’t get her breath, couldn’t quite get a grip on that slippery edge of reason. So for the first time in her life, she let it go. It looked as if she was going to take that wild, fast ride, after all.
“We’ll talk later,” she said breathlessly, and dragged his mouth back to hers.
He had to get his hands on her. He set her on her feet, braced her back against the door and moved those wide-palmed artist’s hands over her. She was willow slim, graceful, extraordinary. Then, tugging the sweater over her head, he traced the same path with his lips.
Fast and greedy, as if a part of him feared she would vanish or slip away. He wanted it all— the balletic curve of her shoulders, the lovely female swell of her breasts, the long, slender torso. Her skin, smooth as satin, went hot under his mouth.
He took her hips, hitched her off her feet again and began to steadily devour.
She cried out, her hands braced on his shoulders. Somehow her legs had wound themselves around his waist. Wild fists of need battered at her, pushing her into a narrow world where the heat was brutal and there was only one answer.
“Now. Right now.” The raw words burned her throat. Her fingers trembled as she yanked at his shirt. Desperate, she used her teeth on his neck.
Then they were on the floor, grappling, fighting with clothes, panting like animals as they groped for flesh. And flesh was damp, dewed with desire.
In a fierce and sudden move, he twisted, shifting her until they were face-to-face, torso-to-torso. His eyes were wildly blue as he lifted her hips. “Now,” he said, watching her face. “Right now.”
He filled her. She surrounded him. Time spun out, no movement, all sensation. Light poured through the windows, wide beams where dust motes danced. His heart pounded against hers, beat to beat. She tried to hold herself there, just there on that dangerous and delicious edge.
But her body craved more. She began to move.
She arched back, lost in the flood of fresh pleasure, moaning when he leaned in to lick at her skin, shuddering when his mouth closed hungrily over her breast.
As the pace quickened she rode with him, and gloried in it.
He couldn’t get enough. His hands raced up her back, then down again. The taste of her exploded inside him and only heightened a
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