Security task
force that had been working the investigation.
Something about Crista made him dangerously hungry. Knowing he had had her and being unable to
remember anything but the dimmest events made him crazy.
“You have a choice.” He set the beer on the counter with enough force to cause her to jump.
“Do I?” She was watching him nervously.
At least it wasn’t in fear.
He pulled the sunglasses from his nose and tossed them to the counter before turning his gaze back to her.
Immediate. Her response came as fast as her gaze took in his.
He watched her breasts begin to rise and lower with her quicker breathing, watched the little points of her nipples tighten beneath her shirt and a softening in the defiant stance she had adopted.
His hand went to his belt, loosening it slowly as her eyes began to widen.
“Dawg.” She swallowed tightly. “I’m not ready for this yet.”
At least she hadn’t said no outright.
The belt came loose. Moving toward her, he tore the metal button open, then rasped the zipper down. Her
eyes became wider, darker, and sharp little teeth bit at her lip.
“I dreamed.” The rough sound of his own voice surprised him. “I dreamed of your mouth taking me.
Sucking me into a pleasure so hot I nearly died from it.”
Her eyes seemed to glaze; her face flushed heatedly as he pulled her to the couch. Dragging his jeans
down his thighs, he sat down, removed his boots, then kicked the material free as she watched in shock.
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file:///C:/Users/Kathy/Shared/Lora%20Leigh%20Nauti%20Nights.html
He was desperate. So fucking hard he was dying from the hunger crawling through his system.
“Say no, and it stops,” he bit out. “Just say no.”
“And go to jail?”
He clamped his lips shut. He had one advantage over her, and that was it. She very well might not be
ready for the rest of it yet, but he had to have this, or he was going to die.
“Your choice.”
SIX
Her choice.
Crista stared down at him, feeling every cell in her body reacting to the sight of Dawg, leaning back on the couch, his devil’s black hair mussed around his face, his light green eyes darkening, and she felt her
vagina flood with the response.
She was dampening her panties. Growing so sensitive that even the air from the air conditioner was a
caress against flesh still covered by her clothing.
“Dawg—” She could hear the plea in her voice.
“You’re so pretty, Crista,” he whispered. “I dreamed of it last night. Your sweet mouth moving over my
cock, driving me insane. Give me that. Just that. We can wait for the rest of it.”
Wait for the rest of it?
Was this his idea of seduction? If it was, then she was weaker than she could have ever imagined, because it was working.
“Come here, baby.” He gripped her wrist, drawing her to her knees as he leaned forward.
As she settled before him, his hands gripped the hem of her shirt and drew it upward, drawing it over her head, then her arms, until he tossed it away.
“Sweet God have mercy,” he groaned, his eyes like brilliant pinpoints of color in his dark face as he stared at the white lace covering her breasts.
“Dawg, this is too soon.” She had to force the words past her lips. “You have to let me—”
One hand cupped around her neck, tilting her head back as the other touched her lips.
“You have the memories of this,” he said, his voice rough. “Give me one now. Just one memory, Crista,
instead of a dream that tears my guts to ribbons with hunger.”
One hand gripped her wrist as he settled against the back of the couch once again and folded her fingers partially around the width of his cock. They wouldn’t surround it.
The hard flesh throbbed beneath her hand, silky and ridged with heavy veins, the bloated head darkened as a drop of pre-cum beaded at the tiny slit.
She knew what he tasted like. Like a storm coming in from the mountains. She knew what was going to
happen the
force that had been working the investigation.
Something about Crista made him dangerously hungry. Knowing he had had her and being unable to
remember anything but the dimmest events made him crazy.
“You have a choice.” He set the beer on the counter with enough force to cause her to jump.
“Do I?” She was watching him nervously.
At least it wasn’t in fear.
He pulled the sunglasses from his nose and tossed them to the counter before turning his gaze back to her.
Immediate. Her response came as fast as her gaze took in his.
He watched her breasts begin to rise and lower with her quicker breathing, watched the little points of her nipples tighten beneath her shirt and a softening in the defiant stance she had adopted.
His hand went to his belt, loosening it slowly as her eyes began to widen.
“Dawg.” She swallowed tightly. “I’m not ready for this yet.”
At least she hadn’t said no outright.
The belt came loose. Moving toward her, he tore the metal button open, then rasped the zipper down. Her
eyes became wider, darker, and sharp little teeth bit at her lip.
“I dreamed.” The rough sound of his own voice surprised him. “I dreamed of your mouth taking me.
Sucking me into a pleasure so hot I nearly died from it.”
Her eyes seemed to glaze; her face flushed heatedly as he pulled her to the couch. Dragging his jeans
down his thighs, he sat down, removed his boots, then kicked the material free as she watched in shock.
46 of 183
2/12/2007 8:45 PM
NautiNights
file:///C:/Users/Kathy/Shared/Lora%20Leigh%20Nauti%20Nights.html
He was desperate. So fucking hard he was dying from the hunger crawling through his system.
“Say no, and it stops,” he bit out. “Just say no.”
“And go to jail?”
He clamped his lips shut. He had one advantage over her, and that was it. She very well might not be
ready for the rest of it yet, but he had to have this, or he was going to die.
“Your choice.”
SIX
Her choice.
Crista stared down at him, feeling every cell in her body reacting to the sight of Dawg, leaning back on the couch, his devil’s black hair mussed around his face, his light green eyes darkening, and she felt her
vagina flood with the response.
She was dampening her panties. Growing so sensitive that even the air from the air conditioner was a
caress against flesh still covered by her clothing.
“Dawg—” She could hear the plea in her voice.
“You’re so pretty, Crista,” he whispered. “I dreamed of it last night. Your sweet mouth moving over my
cock, driving me insane. Give me that. Just that. We can wait for the rest of it.”
Wait for the rest of it?
Was this his idea of seduction? If it was, then she was weaker than she could have ever imagined, because it was working.
“Come here, baby.” He gripped her wrist, drawing her to her knees as he leaned forward.
As she settled before him, his hands gripped the hem of her shirt and drew it upward, drawing it over her head, then her arms, until he tossed it away.
“Sweet God have mercy,” he groaned, his eyes like brilliant pinpoints of color in his dark face as he stared at the white lace covering her breasts.
“Dawg, this is too soon.” She had to force the words past her lips. “You have to let me—”
One hand cupped around her neck, tilting her head back as the other touched her lips.
“You have the memories of this,” he said, his voice rough. “Give me one now. Just one memory, Crista,
instead of a dream that tears my guts to ribbons with hunger.”
One hand gripped her wrist as he settled against the back of the couch once again and folded her fingers partially around the width of his cock. They wouldn’t surround it.
The hard flesh throbbed beneath her hand, silky and ridged with heavy veins, the bloated head darkened as a drop of pre-cum beaded at the tiny slit.
She knew what he tasted like. Like a storm coming in from the mountains. She knew what was going to
happen the
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