Red Alert by Jessica Andersen

alone.
    She was conscious of the quick rise and fall of Erik’s broad chest as their spat of moments ago morphed into something hotter and more dangerous.
    “This is stupid,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. I shouldn’t be attracted to you.”
    “Same goes,” he said, a flash of something like amusement, something like anger, crossing his face. “Then again, that seems to be my usual M.O. What’s your excuse?”
    But even though his words came out faintly mocking, he closed the distance between them, until she could feel the warmth of him against the suddenly sensitized skin of her cheeks and lips. “Stupidity, maybe. The situation. The circumstances. Hell, even the danger, I don’t know.”
    But she did. That last choice resonated a little too well, but the moment was lost when he closed the gap between them. Their lips touched. Their breaths mingled.
    And their last shreds of rationality were lost.
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Meg was free-falling without a parachute. The rushing in her ears was the sound of the wind, the pounding of her heart was the feel of danger. Adrenaline. Exhilaration.
    Except she had solid ground beneath her feet. It wasn’t the wind at all. It was Erik.
    His lips cruised against hers, the rasp of late-night stubble on his cheeks and chin adding a rough edge to the softness, a thrill to the demand. Then she was the one demanding, parting her lips beneath his and diving headfirst into the heat.
    The temptation.
    She fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him close even as a faint buzz in the back of her brain warned that this wasn’t one of the smartest moves she’d ever made.
    But of the dumb decisions she’d ever made, this was the one that felt the best.
    She sank into the kiss, into the man, sliding her fingers from his shirt to his shoulders, then his arms.She felt strong, corded muscles beneath her fingers, and was faintly surprised at their leashed power. She raked her fingernails across his biceps and felt him shudder.
    Then he gripped her hips in his big hands, so his thumbs rested low on her pelvis, and it was her turn to shudder. Neurons she’d all but forgotten about flared to life, reminding her of the woman she’d been before her job responsibilities and her father’s pressure to “tone it down” had turned her into someone else.
    Someone she was bound and determined to outgrow, damn it. Starting now, with this surprising man who was nothing like what she’d thought she wanted, but had somehow become exactly what she needed.
    She angled her head to accept more of his mouth, demand more of it, and he complied, delving deep with his tongue and gripping her hips so hard she thought he would leave marks. She moaned her pleasure, and when he stiffened and hesitated, she whispered, “More. Please, more.”
    He froze and ended the kiss. Dropped his arms from around her. Backed up a step.
    And looked down at her, breathing hard.
    Suddenly ashamed for no reasons she could pinpoint besides the quick chill of his eyes and the rapid beat of blood beneath her skin, she crossed her arms over her chest to form a pitiful barrier, acutely aware of the rasp of material across her tender nipples. She swallowed hard and fought for humorwhen she couldn’t read his expression. “I don’t suppose you’d care to drop the purchase offer, huh?”
    His eyes blanked in an instant. “Is that what you want?”
    She’d meant it as a joke, but as passion drained, all of the complications rushed in, reminding her that this wasn’t about the man-woman stuff, had never been about that.
    It was about NPT. About someone wanting it, or not wanting him to have it. If he backed out, maybe things would settle down. Maybe the danger would pass.
    Maybe nobody else would get hurt.
    So she nodded. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.” A small internal voice reminded her that a few moments earlier, her wants had had very little to do with molecular