Resistance by Jan Springer Page B

his
cock tighten in awareness.
    Well, what do you know? He wasn’t in such bad shape, after
all.
    “You’d better make sure I can’t catch you the next time you
do that,” he croaked. Her cheeks darkened more than they already had from the
cold.
    Shit. She was blushing. Maybe she wasn’t as damaged as he’d
originally thought.
    He drifted again. Drifted into the memories. Of warmth. Of
Red. Kissing her. Her hot, eager lips melting over his. Her mouth swollen and
moist, opening to him, his tongue invading her sweet cavern.
    Oh man, he could just about drown in these memories. She
tasted so succulent…
    * * * * *
    He held her wrist so tight she couldn’t escape even if she’d
wanted to. And she really didn’t want to because the sexual darkness in his
eyes, his exquisite warning about her slapping him—as well as her need to wake
him any way she could—had her lowering her head until their lips met.
    Scorching tingles shot through her mouth and mind as her
lips melted over his. She’d expected the kiss to be as weak as he appeared. It
wasn’t. It was potent. Powerful and needy.
    Just as needy as the sexual desire pounding through her. The
heat of his kiss pushed aside everything else. Suddenly it was just the two of
them. Just as it had been the one other time in that bedroom.
    She fought to breathe as a rush of want raced through her.
Lust, hot and heavy. Thick and powerful. It swept through her entire being like
a firestorm, lashing her senses and sparking in her brain.
    She wanted Blade. Wanted him like in her fantasy last night.
Like she’d had him at the safe house. The kiss deepened and she inhaled him
deep inside her lungs.
    He was male. Raw and primal. Dominating. His scent powered
through her and sailed deep into her bloodstream. Her body tightened with
arousal, her pussy clenched. Hot moisture splayed against her panties. The
driving hunger for him to fuck her took hold.
    His tongue mated with hers. Erotic tingles swept through her
and, with the growing heat, she unzipped her coat and cupped her breast.
    Jolting at the realization she was getting carried away, Reena
moaned with regret and broke the kiss. Blade groaned. His eyes were open and he
seemed lucid.
    “Need to get inside,” he panted. She wondered if he meant
inside the cabin or inside of her. In the lamplight, his dark eyes glittered
with pain and he inhaled sharply as she helped him off the snowmobile.
Standing, he swayed like a drunkard but thankfully didn’t fall over.
    Her legs went weak with relief as he stumbled forward. With
her help, he managed the stairs, lurched across the planked porch and yanked
open the screen door.
    Within minutes, she had him sitting on a cot set up beside
the woodstove. Heat blasted him in waves and Blade wished to hell his limbs
would continue to co-operate, but it was as if his body knew it would be better
if Red undressed him.
    And she did. He was weak as a kitten and barely able to
enjoy the show as she unzipped his jacket. Pain burst through his chest and he
gasped as she tried to maneuver his jacket off his shoulders.
    “Sorry,” she soothed.
    When she had his shirt off, concern flushed her face.
Concern for him. He spied the blood streaking his upper body and the puckered
hole in his shoulder. With every breath, the pain slicing through him grew more
intense.
    He wondered about Cade. Had he fared any better? He had been
shot and went down about the same time Blade had been hit himself.
    Was Cade dead? A spear of bitter disappointment grabbed him.
Cade’s five brothers would hurt with the loss, and Blade might have made a good
solid friend in the guy if they both hadn’t been after Red.
    Through the pounding pain knocking through his brain, he
wanted to ask her about Cade, but a motionless figure lay on another cot
directly on the other side of the potbelly woodstove. Relief whispered through
him.
    Outlaw was pale. Like death warmed over.
    “Cade?” he muttered.
    “He took a couple of bullets.