NEW ~ FR*EE in KU
All my life I have thirsted for revenge. It was all that mattered...until I saw her. I cannot let her sacrifice herself. I will do anything to save her... Even if it means confronting my deepest fears.
~ EXCERPT ~
“Take off your T-shirt.” Her voice was rough.
His eyes widened.
She’d surprised him. Good. She had to keep one step ahead of him.
He looked at her from under hooded eyes. “You got it, babe.”
Oh, she hated it when he was all flippant. That careless charm hid a far more complex man, one whose feelings she was just beginning to sense.
Reaching down, he grabbed the edge of his T-shirt and began to peel it off.
The scent of him grew stronger, hot and heavy with an undercurrent of spice that hinted at his desire. It curled around her, pulled her, and tugged at her core. She grew wet. She wanted to mirror his actions, draw her dress down her shoulders, bare her breasts, and rub her aching nipples against his hard chest.
She took a step forward in his direction, as if drawn by an invisible thread.
He dropped the T-shirt on the table. The whisper of cloth on the surface rasped over her skin. Her nerve endings seem to come alive all at once.
She drank up the sight of his bare chest, the tendons of his neck that stretched and bowed with each breath, the sculpted beauty of those hard planes, the rounded nubs of his male nipples…and oh!
A pleased smirk jerked at his lips. “Like what you see, babe?”
She sensed he knew exactly the kind of impact he was having on her, but she nearly forgave him his cocky assurance. He was magnificent. She could almost understand where that self-confidence was coming from. She should step back and turn and leave and get away while she could… Her fingers twitched, ached to reach out and touch the object of her fascination. She simply had to. “Can I?”
“May I.”
“What?” She sounded drugged, almost pleading.
“Grammar, babe, grammar. My adoptive parents were of Italian origin, but don’t forget I grew up in New London, went to a public school after all.” A bead of sweat slid down the line that demarcated the perfection of his pecs.
“May I…please?” Without waiting for his response, she slid forward into the space between his thighs. She reached for the ring that threaded his left nipple and dragged it down slightly.
His shoulders bunched. The muscles of his stomach drew in. His chest planes seemed to harden even more. He froze.
“Does it hurt? I didn’t mean to…” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t the case, and she really didn’t want to know the effect of her little experiment, and really, she had no idea what she was thinking anymore. She’d lost all capacity to string a coherent sentence together. She straightened and made to step back.
His palms landed on her hips, and he held her in place. The heat of his fingers burned through the thin cloth of her shirt. “Don’t do that again, not unless you want to finish what you started, not unless you intend to replace your fingers with your mouth, got it?”
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