OneManAdvantage by Kelly Jamieson

with need.
    He chuckled. “Never mind then.” And he kissed her again.
    It was like a drug, sliding through her veins all warm and
blissful, making her melt from the inside out. He licked inside her mouth and
bit softly at her lips. Câlisse , the man was a good kisser!
    Her body strained toward him and, helpless to resist, she
moved closer.
    “Oh yeah,” he murmured and hauled her onto his lap. She
shifted her position so she straddled him because, oh wow, she could get things
lined up, that ache intensifying between her thighs pressed right against the
bulge at his crotch. Her breath left her all at once and her head went light as
a fierce rush of desire for him shot through her.
    He slid a hand into her hair and pulled her face down to him
for more of that luscious kissing, his other hand lower on her back, bringing
her closer to his body, and they rubbed together as he consumed her with that
incredible mouth, endless, fierce kisses that robbed her of all good sense and
resolve.
    She knew she should stop. She should be wrenching herself
out of his arms and running out of that empty loft as fast as she could. But
she could not get her body to do that, erotically helpless against the lust
rolling through her.
    “So good,” he sighed against her mouth. “Nicole. You taste
so sweet.” His hands moved over her body, up and down her back, and then one
slid down into the gap where her low-rise jeans had ridden even lower, finding
skin. His touch sent sizzles over her entire body and she gasped. First his
fingertips brushed the base of her spine, then the crease between her cheeks,
then he easily pushed his hand lower and cupped one ass cheek in his big hand. Tabarnac ,
that felt good!
    Her head fell back and he kissed her throat, opening his
mouth on her pulse there, then dragging his tongue up the side of her neck. Her
breasts thrust forward, aching, needy, her nipples tight and tingling inside
her bra. And then he covered one breast with a hand and gently squeezed.
Sensation exploded in her, pleasure and need, and she whimpered.
    “Hot,” he whispered. “You’re burning hot, Nicole.”
    She made some kind of little noise that might have been
agreement, her mind spinning uselessly. And when he found the hem of her
T-shirt and gently worked it up over her breasts and tugged it over her head,
she didn’t stop him.
    The room was warm from the fireplace, but even so she
shivered, her bare skin crying out for the touch of his hands. When he put his
hands on her, holding her rib cage, she gave another soft cry of pleasure.
    She looked at him, saw him gazing at her breasts, plumped up
by her underwire bra, her nipples visible through sheer black lace.
    “Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said. “Jesus, Nicole.”
    She almost wanted to cry at his compliment, because people
never told her she was beautiful, and at how helpless she felt to resist him,
how angry she was going to be at herself about this. She bit her lip and met
his eyes and concern shadowed them as he looked back at her.
    He held her so gently, kissed her mouth softly and said,
“It’s okay, Nicole. It’s okay.”
    And she nodded, wanting to believe him, wanting this to be
okay even though she knew it wasn’t.
    He kissed her again, hands stroking her bare skin now,
kisses that went on and on, slow and hot and wet. Eventually his fingers worked
open the fastener of her bra at her back and he tugged it off her. Again he
studied her, awe and lust on his face, and feminine power and satisfaction
swept through her.
    “Let’s move,” he ordered, and he lifted her off him, then
reached for their jackets lying on the floor nearby. He spread them, and with
dazed submission, she let him lower her there and move over her. He gazed down
at her, his face tight with male dominance and sensual hunger. Then he paused
to remove his sweater and the T-shirt layered beneath it, both coming off together.
She took in his body with avid eyes, her tongue dragging across her