gritted out.
“Why is your face so red?” he asked suspiciously, looking from her to the package. He stopped in histracks, refusing to move till she explained. After she did, briefly, he gazed at her in amazement, and then said, “And you bought only one box? Hah!” He scooped two more boxes off the shelf and threw them in the cart.
Smiling from ear to ear, he took the cart out of her hands and rolled it toward the cashier. She finally caught up with him at the checkout line.
“I’m hungry,” Rolf growled. “Let’s hurry home.” He ran a fingertip caressingly along her jaw, tilting up her chin for a brief kiss. The husky tone of Rolf’s voice and the smoky haze of his whiskey eyes told her loud and clear that his appetite wasn’t for food.
And. Lord help her, Meredith shared the hunger.
Rolf kissed her shoulder while the bag boy was stuffing their groceries into paper sacks. Even through her sweater, Meredith felt seared by his heat.
The minute they left the store, he pulled her into his embrace and pressed his lips against the inside of one wrist, then the other. The whole time, his eyes held hers with a promise that ricocheted between them.
After they’d put all the bags into the trunk of her car, Rolf backed her up against the fender, bracketed her face with his hands to hold her in place—not that she had any intention of moving—and really kissed her. Mouth against mouth. Insistent. Voracious. With age-old expertise, her Viking brushed and slanted and shaped her lips to fit his perfectly. Then he used his tongue to demonstrate the depth of his hunger for her. Meredith’s knees would have buckled if she hadn’t been braced against the car, pinioned by Rolf’s body. Then he pulled back slightly and grinned, as if satisfied with his work.
She practically crawled into the driver’s seat and buckled up, then inhaled deeply to calm down. Focusing on her driving, she wasn’t immediately aware that Rolf had released his seat belt and moved closer to her. Too late she realized that one arm lay across the back of her seat rest. The fingertips of that hand played with the edges of her hair, and the other hand rested heavily on her knee…unmoving, but dangerous.
“Rolf,” she protested, “I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
He grinned against her ear, whispering, “Exactly.”
She felt his warm breath before she heard the word, and a delicious shiver traveled through the sensitive whorls of her ear, straight down through her body, making erotic pit stops along the way at her breasts and the vee of her thighs.
She moaned softly and turned off the highway onto the local access road leading to her house.
“Do you like this?” he drawled, and used the tip of his wet tongue to trace all the shell-like crevices, then dart inside.
Meredith arched her neck against the too-intense pleasure that caused her breasts to peak into hard points, and throb. “Don’t,” she whimpered.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” he asked with surprise.
That was when she noticed the hand that had been resting on her knee was roving, a forefinger examining the inseam of her jeans.
“Open your thighs,” he coaxed.
She stared straight ahead, trying to convince herself that this lonely road needed her undivided attention. But her legs parted, of their own volition.
Now, while his mouth and teeth and tongue played seductive sex games with her ear and neck, his lonefingertip traced a slow path along the inseam from knee to crotch to the other knee, then back again. Slowly. Over and over. Until she wanted to screech aloud with her increasing arousal and the urge to grab his hand and hold it where she needed it most.
“How do you feel now?”
She remained silent, not wanting to reveal her vulnerability.
“Your breasts,” he said huskily, looking at her there, “tell me how they feel.”
She made a soft mewling sound of resistance, never having talked like this with a man before. Besides, his teasing
“Why is your face so red?” he asked suspiciously, looking from her to the package. He stopped in histracks, refusing to move till she explained. After she did, briefly, he gazed at her in amazement, and then said, “And you bought only one box? Hah!” He scooped two more boxes off the shelf and threw them in the cart.
Smiling from ear to ear, he took the cart out of her hands and rolled it toward the cashier. She finally caught up with him at the checkout line.
“I’m hungry,” Rolf growled. “Let’s hurry home.” He ran a fingertip caressingly along her jaw, tilting up her chin for a brief kiss. The husky tone of Rolf’s voice and the smoky haze of his whiskey eyes told her loud and clear that his appetite wasn’t for food.
And. Lord help her, Meredith shared the hunger.
Rolf kissed her shoulder while the bag boy was stuffing their groceries into paper sacks. Even through her sweater, Meredith felt seared by his heat.
The minute they left the store, he pulled her into his embrace and pressed his lips against the inside of one wrist, then the other. The whole time, his eyes held hers with a promise that ricocheted between them.
After they’d put all the bags into the trunk of her car, Rolf backed her up against the fender, bracketed her face with his hands to hold her in place—not that she had any intention of moving—and really kissed her. Mouth against mouth. Insistent. Voracious. With age-old expertise, her Viking brushed and slanted and shaped her lips to fit his perfectly. Then he used his tongue to demonstrate the depth of his hunger for her. Meredith’s knees would have buckled if she hadn’t been braced against the car, pinioned by Rolf’s body. Then he pulled back slightly and grinned, as if satisfied with his work.
She practically crawled into the driver’s seat and buckled up, then inhaled deeply to calm down. Focusing on her driving, she wasn’t immediately aware that Rolf had released his seat belt and moved closer to her. Too late she realized that one arm lay across the back of her seat rest. The fingertips of that hand played with the edges of her hair, and the other hand rested heavily on her knee…unmoving, but dangerous.
“Rolf,” she protested, “I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
He grinned against her ear, whispering, “Exactly.”
She felt his warm breath before she heard the word, and a delicious shiver traveled through the sensitive whorls of her ear, straight down through her body, making erotic pit stops along the way at her breasts and the vee of her thighs.
She moaned softly and turned off the highway onto the local access road leading to her house.
“Do you like this?” he drawled, and used the tip of his wet tongue to trace all the shell-like crevices, then dart inside.
Meredith arched her neck against the too-intense pleasure that caused her breasts to peak into hard points, and throb. “Don’t,” she whimpered.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” he asked with surprise.
That was when she noticed the hand that had been resting on her knee was roving, a forefinger examining the inseam of her jeans.
“Open your thighs,” he coaxed.
She stared straight ahead, trying to convince herself that this lonely road needed her undivided attention. But her legs parted, of their own volition.
Now, while his mouth and teeth and tongue played seductive sex games with her ear and neck, his lonefingertip traced a slow path along the inseam from knee to crotch to the other knee, then back again. Slowly. Over and over. Until she wanted to screech aloud with her increasing arousal and the urge to grab his hand and hold it where she needed it most.
“How do you feel now?”
She remained silent, not wanting to reveal her vulnerability.
“Your breasts,” he said huskily, looking at her there, “tell me how they feel.”
She made a soft mewling sound of resistance, never having talked like this with a man before. Besides, his teasing
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