her face, her breath was shallow. He rose, so close
51
Joey W. Hill
his leg and hip brushed hers. His arm slid around her hips, the fingertips of his other hand trailing up her bare left thigh. “You look beautiful, Sarah,” he said, his voice as soft as a stroke of fur. “No. More than that. You look irresistibly fuckable.”
Her heart jumped in panic. Get a grip, officer .
“Well, I hope the guy I'm wearing it for will think so.”
“Sarah.” The small area behind the screen became even more so with just that onemurmured word, the heat and steel that transformed his expression. They made her even more aware of everything the garment revealed. The cool air of the shop on her exposed breasts, the press of the thong strap against sensitive nerve endings in dark, secret places, the way the cotton crotch rubbed her dampening folds as she shifted. The tightening of the satin ribbon straps on her bare shoulders as she took a shuddering breath. Her legs trembled as both his hands closed on her waist. She jolted at the sensation that swept through her at that one point of contact.
Her lips moistened, parted. “What?”
She meant to sound tough, unaffected. Instead, she sounded as if she could be shoved to her back by the touch of a finger. If that finger were Justin Herne's it might be more truth than metaphor.
“You're a liar.”
He twisted his fingers in the strap on the left shoulder and yanked it down, exposing her breast to the eager cup of his palm. Sarah gasped and arched into histouch, and found her mouth claimed by his. His arm around her waist hauled her upagainst the full length of his body. He lifted her on her toes so her heels rose out of the shoes.
With a man as elegant and smooth as Justin Herne, a woman expected intimacy to be a well-planned ballet. Sarah knew he was capable of it. But when he moved to kissher now, he was quick, brutal, overpowering. In a hungry and terrifying heartbeat she realized he had laid a claim on her and this was his reminder of it, a warning that therewere consequences to provoking him.
She had never kissed a man who kissed like Justin Herne. Hell, she had never imagined a man could kiss like this man did. He used not just his lips, but his hold on her body to enhance the effect and make it explosive. He held her relentlessly againsthim as his hand moved up from her breast to her jaw, his thumb against her throat, collaring and caressing her at once. Her bare nipple pressed into the soft cotton of the black T-shirt while his hand splayed out so his fingers could stroke the dip into the valley between her buttocks. He nipped the thong strap in his fingers and tugged, making her moan into his mouth and rub her mound against him for a sweet burst offriction she felt thrum through her thighs and lower belly.
Then there was his mouth, tongue and teeth, scraping, licking, sucking and nibbling until she could only hold on, her body too weak to do more. She didn't believe in thiskind of magic. Every brain cell screamed one word.
More.
52
If Wishes Were Horses
* * * * *
She had a date. Like hell she did. Chief Sarah hadn't opened her legs or her heart to
anyone since her divorce, he’d bet his store on it. The pussy he'd had the pleasure of enjoying last night had been excruciatingly tight. Her prickly attitude told him her heart was in the same condition.
Cops weren't normally a trusting group, and one recently ditched in a marriage would not be an easy fortress to storm. It was a good thing he’d done extensive readingon the strategies of medieval sieges for a history term paper in college. It was going totake a complex plan not only to take this castle, but to keep it. Driving the battering ram through the door to keep it open for a full invasion seemed a logical first step.
His grip eased, but only to spin her around so she faced the window next to the mirror. One arm remained
51
Joey W. Hill
his leg and hip brushed hers. His arm slid around her hips, the fingertips of his other hand trailing up her bare left thigh. “You look beautiful, Sarah,” he said, his voice as soft as a stroke of fur. “No. More than that. You look irresistibly fuckable.”
Her heart jumped in panic. Get a grip, officer .
“Well, I hope the guy I'm wearing it for will think so.”
“Sarah.” The small area behind the screen became even more so with just that onemurmured word, the heat and steel that transformed his expression. They made her even more aware of everything the garment revealed. The cool air of the shop on her exposed breasts, the press of the thong strap against sensitive nerve endings in dark, secret places, the way the cotton crotch rubbed her dampening folds as she shifted. The tightening of the satin ribbon straps on her bare shoulders as she took a shuddering breath. Her legs trembled as both his hands closed on her waist. She jolted at the sensation that swept through her at that one point of contact.
Her lips moistened, parted. “What?”
She meant to sound tough, unaffected. Instead, she sounded as if she could be shoved to her back by the touch of a finger. If that finger were Justin Herne's it might be more truth than metaphor.
“You're a liar.”
He twisted his fingers in the strap on the left shoulder and yanked it down, exposing her breast to the eager cup of his palm. Sarah gasped and arched into histouch, and found her mouth claimed by his. His arm around her waist hauled her upagainst the full length of his body. He lifted her on her toes so her heels rose out of the shoes.
With a man as elegant and smooth as Justin Herne, a woman expected intimacy to be a well-planned ballet. Sarah knew he was capable of it. But when he moved to kissher now, he was quick, brutal, overpowering. In a hungry and terrifying heartbeat she realized he had laid a claim on her and this was his reminder of it, a warning that therewere consequences to provoking him.
She had never kissed a man who kissed like Justin Herne. Hell, she had never imagined a man could kiss like this man did. He used not just his lips, but his hold on her body to enhance the effect and make it explosive. He held her relentlessly againsthim as his hand moved up from her breast to her jaw, his thumb against her throat, collaring and caressing her at once. Her bare nipple pressed into the soft cotton of the black T-shirt while his hand splayed out so his fingers could stroke the dip into the valley between her buttocks. He nipped the thong strap in his fingers and tugged, making her moan into his mouth and rub her mound against him for a sweet burst offriction she felt thrum through her thighs and lower belly.
Then there was his mouth, tongue and teeth, scraping, licking, sucking and nibbling until she could only hold on, her body too weak to do more. She didn't believe in thiskind of magic. Every brain cell screamed one word.
More.
52
If Wishes Were Horses
* * * * *
She had a date. Like hell she did. Chief Sarah hadn't opened her legs or her heart to
anyone since her divorce, he’d bet his store on it. The pussy he'd had the pleasure of enjoying last night had been excruciatingly tight. Her prickly attitude told him her heart was in the same condition.
Cops weren't normally a trusting group, and one recently ditched in a marriage would not be an easy fortress to storm. It was a good thing he’d done extensive readingon the strategies of medieval sieges for a history term paper in college. It was going totake a complex plan not only to take this castle, but to keep it. Driving the battering ram through the door to keep it open for a full invasion seemed a logical first step.
His grip eased, but only to spin her around so she faced the window next to the mirror. One arm remained
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