didn’t just leave.”
She gave him a little shove, palm to chest. “You did. It was rude.”
“God. Are you going to scold me now? Wait, you already are. I kissed you. I confess. You have that mouth, and I wanted it—was pretty clear about that.” His eyes sparked, storm clouds full of thunder and electric light. “You didn’t scream for help so I took it. Hang me.”
“It’s not about the kiss. It is, but it isn’t. It’s about the why and the after that and the what.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“Yes! I’m entitled to some sort of reasonable answer.”
“Where, you forgot where, so I’ll insert that one. Where is the reasonable question? Find it, and I’ll do what I can with a reasonable answer. Thereto.”
She smoldered. He hadn’t known a woman could actually smolder. God, it was sexy.
“If you can’t discuss this like an adult, then—”
“Screw it.”
If he was going to be damned for it once, he might as well be damned for it twice. He grabbed her, jerking her forward and up to her toes. The sound she made might have been the beginning of what, or why, but before she could finish the word he plundered her mouth. He used his teeth, one quick, impatient bite, that had her lips parting in surprise or response. He wasn’t in the mood to care which, not when his tongue found hers, not when the taste of her sizzled along his senses like a wire in the blood.
His hands tangled in the wild glory of her hair, tugging so her head dipped back.
Stop. She meant to say it. She meant to do it. But it was like being drenched in summer. In the heat and the wet. Every sensible thought melted away as her body leaped from temper to shock to fevered response.
When he lifted his head, said her name, she only shook her head and dragged him back.
For one wild moment his hands were everywhere, inciting, igniting, until she could barely get her breath.
“Let me—” He fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.
“Okay.” She’d let him do pretty much anything.
When his hand covered her racing heart, she pulled him to the floor.
Smooth flesh, hard muscle, and a mouth mad with hunger. She arched under him, rolled over him. Yanked his T-shirt up and away to scrape her teeth over his chest. With a groan, he dragged her back up to ravish her mouth, her throat, with a frenzied desperation that matched the rush of hers.
Half mad, he flipped her onto her back, ready to rip her clothes away. Her elbow smacked the floor with a sound like a gunshot. Stars burst in front of her eyes.
“Oh! God!”
“What? Emma. Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. Let me see.”
“No. Wait.” Dazed, tingling, and not a little stupefied, she managed to sit up. “Funny bone. Ha-ha. Oh, God,” she said again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Here.” He started to rub her forearm to help with the needles and pins he imagined were stabbing her, and struggling to steady his breathing, wheezed.
“You’re laughing.”
“No. No. I’m too overcome with lust and passion to draw a clear breath.”
“You’re laughing.” She jabbed him in the chest with the index finger of her good arm.
“No. I’m fighting manfully not to.” Which was, he mused, likely the first time he’d done so while sporting a massive hard-on. “Is it better? Any better?” he asked, and made the mistake of looking over, and into her eyes.
The laugh sparkled in them, like gold over brown. He lost the fight, simply collapsed and gave in to the belly laugh. “Really sorry.”
“Why? When you showed such exquisite finesse.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say. You’re the one who headed for the floor when I’ve got a perfectly good couch ten feet away, and a damn fine bed up those stairs. But no, you can’t control yourself long enough to let me get us to a soft surface.”
“Only a wimp requires a soft surface for sex.”
He shifted his gaze over with a slow, hot smile. “I ain’t no wimp, sister.” He sat up. “Let’s try take
She gave him a little shove, palm to chest. “You did. It was rude.”
“God. Are you going to scold me now? Wait, you already are. I kissed you. I confess. You have that mouth, and I wanted it—was pretty clear about that.” His eyes sparked, storm clouds full of thunder and electric light. “You didn’t scream for help so I took it. Hang me.”
“It’s not about the kiss. It is, but it isn’t. It’s about the why and the after that and the what.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“Yes! I’m entitled to some sort of reasonable answer.”
“Where, you forgot where, so I’ll insert that one. Where is the reasonable question? Find it, and I’ll do what I can with a reasonable answer. Thereto.”
She smoldered. He hadn’t known a woman could actually smolder. God, it was sexy.
“If you can’t discuss this like an adult, then—”
“Screw it.”
If he was going to be damned for it once, he might as well be damned for it twice. He grabbed her, jerking her forward and up to her toes. The sound she made might have been the beginning of what, or why, but before she could finish the word he plundered her mouth. He used his teeth, one quick, impatient bite, that had her lips parting in surprise or response. He wasn’t in the mood to care which, not when his tongue found hers, not when the taste of her sizzled along his senses like a wire in the blood.
His hands tangled in the wild glory of her hair, tugging so her head dipped back.
Stop. She meant to say it. She meant to do it. But it was like being drenched in summer. In the heat and the wet. Every sensible thought melted away as her body leaped from temper to shock to fevered response.
When he lifted his head, said her name, she only shook her head and dragged him back.
For one wild moment his hands were everywhere, inciting, igniting, until she could barely get her breath.
“Let me—” He fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.
“Okay.” She’d let him do pretty much anything.
When his hand covered her racing heart, she pulled him to the floor.
Smooth flesh, hard muscle, and a mouth mad with hunger. She arched under him, rolled over him. Yanked his T-shirt up and away to scrape her teeth over his chest. With a groan, he dragged her back up to ravish her mouth, her throat, with a frenzied desperation that matched the rush of hers.
Half mad, he flipped her onto her back, ready to rip her clothes away. Her elbow smacked the floor with a sound like a gunshot. Stars burst in front of her eyes.
“Oh! God!”
“What? Emma. Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. Let me see.”
“No. Wait.” Dazed, tingling, and not a little stupefied, she managed to sit up. “Funny bone. Ha-ha. Oh, God,” she said again.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Here.” He started to rub her forearm to help with the needles and pins he imagined were stabbing her, and struggling to steady his breathing, wheezed.
“You’re laughing.”
“No. No. I’m too overcome with lust and passion to draw a clear breath.”
“You’re laughing.” She jabbed him in the chest with the index finger of her good arm.
“No. I’m fighting manfully not to.” Which was, he mused, likely the first time he’d done so while sporting a massive hard-on. “Is it better? Any better?” he asked, and made the mistake of looking over, and into her eyes.
The laugh sparkled in them, like gold over brown. He lost the fight, simply collapsed and gave in to the belly laugh. “Really sorry.”
“Why? When you showed such exquisite finesse.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say. You’re the one who headed for the floor when I’ve got a perfectly good couch ten feet away, and a damn fine bed up those stairs. But no, you can’t control yourself long enough to let me get us to a soft surface.”
“Only a wimp requires a soft surface for sex.”
He shifted his gaze over with a slow, hot smile. “I ain’t no wimp, sister.” He sat up. “Let’s try take
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