punishing kiss, the taste of copper coating the line of her clamped lips.
Good. She hurt him. Split his lip.
She didn’t know what possessed her to open her mouth, perhaps it was the shock of drawing first blood in this warped reality, perhaps it was simply the shock of warm lips against her own in the cold landscape of her nightmare, whatever. She did. And it took her assailant less than a split second to take advantage of her weakness.
The kiss deepened. Liquid heat stroked past her parted lips, branding a path of flame across her tongue that challenged her to deny him. The fact that Jessica found herself unsure she really wanted to was highly alarming, until she realized she could work this to her advantage. She kissed him back, her legs no longer trying to strike but opening to link around his own. Bodies arched, hips twisted as they played for supremacy of the kiss and volleyed for position on the bed. And then just like that, it changed, their battle for dominance turned to something else. Something more about desire than about gaining the advantage.
Of course, perhaps that was just because it was hard to fight someone who’d given over all control.
He rolled, pulling her over him, his hands stroking down over her body, the touch soft, though not tentative. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, his hands continuing on his trail of worship down her body.
He was worshipping her?
That truly clued her that she was not in a nightmare, but for another glorious ten seconds she ignored that thought. Worse, she moaned as his hand passed over the side of her breast, her body all but crying with need to follow the retreating heat of his palm.
“Ah, fuck.” His hands fisted around her hips. She sucked in a breath as he used his grip to move her to exactly where he wanted her…and exactly where she wanted to be. She arched her back, searching for the angle that would allow her to get the most sensation as she rubbed her aching center along the hard length pressing against her. Damn it had been a long time. And hell if she could remember ever aching like this.
“Jessica.” Her name was accompanied by another caress, this one more firm, more solid as he slid a hand back up her tank top to cup one of her breasts that were all but begging for his attention. It felt good, too good. And okay, whoa, dream lover knew her name. How the hell did he know her name?
Jessica gasped, blinking as reality intruded. The change of position had also allowed for a change in illumination, her captor no longer a hovering shadow above her, but a very real man beneath her. A man she knew.
“Logan?” she gasped, staring back into his heated gaze. And wasn’t this a total WTF moment rolled up into one hell of an awwwkwaaard as the reality of their position hit home. They both breathed heavily, his one hand cupping her breast, the other snugged against her buttocks, holding her tight against his pelvis. Her own hands held tight to his biceps as if she’d guided said hands there.
He didn’t respond—though he did release her breast.
“Crap!” She thrust herself off him and landed with an inelegant plop on the mattress beside him. Trying to scramble farther away, she bumped her back into the headboard.
Whoa, they’d really traveled on that bed.
She pulled her legs back. “I’m not going to ask how…”
He stood abruptly, bouncing her a bit on the bed as his weight shifted and then left the mattress. She barely noticed as her eyes were stuck on his chest. Ripped. There was no other word. There was not an ounce of body fat on the man. And his abs? They rippled and dipped enticingly, drawing her attention to how his low-slung jeans seemed to hug not only the tight contours of his trim hips but, something else. Something that obviously had enjoyed their make-out session as much as—she closed her eyes, banging her head against the headboard a couple times. Yeah, no reason to complete that sentence. It was easy to see how
Good. She hurt him. Split his lip.
She didn’t know what possessed her to open her mouth, perhaps it was the shock of drawing first blood in this warped reality, perhaps it was simply the shock of warm lips against her own in the cold landscape of her nightmare, whatever. She did. And it took her assailant less than a split second to take advantage of her weakness.
The kiss deepened. Liquid heat stroked past her parted lips, branding a path of flame across her tongue that challenged her to deny him. The fact that Jessica found herself unsure she really wanted to was highly alarming, until she realized she could work this to her advantage. She kissed him back, her legs no longer trying to strike but opening to link around his own. Bodies arched, hips twisted as they played for supremacy of the kiss and volleyed for position on the bed. And then just like that, it changed, their battle for dominance turned to something else. Something more about desire than about gaining the advantage.
Of course, perhaps that was just because it was hard to fight someone who’d given over all control.
He rolled, pulling her over him, his hands stroking down over her body, the touch soft, though not tentative. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, his hands continuing on his trail of worship down her body.
He was worshipping her?
That truly clued her that she was not in a nightmare, but for another glorious ten seconds she ignored that thought. Worse, she moaned as his hand passed over the side of her breast, her body all but crying with need to follow the retreating heat of his palm.
“Ah, fuck.” His hands fisted around her hips. She sucked in a breath as he used his grip to move her to exactly where he wanted her…and exactly where she wanted to be. She arched her back, searching for the angle that would allow her to get the most sensation as she rubbed her aching center along the hard length pressing against her. Damn it had been a long time. And hell if she could remember ever aching like this.
“Jessica.” Her name was accompanied by another caress, this one more firm, more solid as he slid a hand back up her tank top to cup one of her breasts that were all but begging for his attention. It felt good, too good. And okay, whoa, dream lover knew her name. How the hell did he know her name?
Jessica gasped, blinking as reality intruded. The change of position had also allowed for a change in illumination, her captor no longer a hovering shadow above her, but a very real man beneath her. A man she knew.
“Logan?” she gasped, staring back into his heated gaze. And wasn’t this a total WTF moment rolled up into one hell of an awwwkwaaard as the reality of their position hit home. They both breathed heavily, his one hand cupping her breast, the other snugged against her buttocks, holding her tight against his pelvis. Her own hands held tight to his biceps as if she’d guided said hands there.
He didn’t respond—though he did release her breast.
“Crap!” She thrust herself off him and landed with an inelegant plop on the mattress beside him. Trying to scramble farther away, she bumped her back into the headboard.
Whoa, they’d really traveled on that bed.
She pulled her legs back. “I’m not going to ask how…”
He stood abruptly, bouncing her a bit on the bed as his weight shifted and then left the mattress. She barely noticed as her eyes were stuck on his chest. Ripped. There was no other word. There was not an ounce of body fat on the man. And his abs? They rippled and dipped enticingly, drawing her attention to how his low-slung jeans seemed to hug not only the tight contours of his trim hips but, something else. Something that obviously had enjoyed their make-out session as much as—she closed her eyes, banging her head against the headboard a couple times. Yeah, no reason to complete that sentence. It was easy to see how
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