Wild And Wicked. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
freaking shallow that all she had to do was slide into fishnet hose to make him start salivating?
Before he could fully form and analyze a response to that question—let alone say goodbye—Kyra set her beer on the kitchen counter with a clang.
Foam rose up in the throat of the bottle to bubble over onto the granite surface around her sink, but Jesse was too mesmerized by the sight of her strutting into the hallway to do anything about it.
Something about the take-no-shit attitude of her walk told him she meant business. He’d seen that determined stride of hers before when she was dealing with shifty horse sellers or uncooperative studs.
And he had the feeling he wasn’t going to fare any better against the will of this woman than the men who’d been forced to give her a good price on her horses or the studs who procreated when and where she wanted them to.
As a matter of fact, he felt his own desire to play stud rising to the surface in a hurry.
“Kyra, I don’t think—” was as much as he managed before she came toe-to-toe with him in the hall lit with flickering electric sconces intended to look like candles along both walls.
Jesse didn’t realize he was backing up until his butt connected with the stucco wall behind him. Her hands materialized on his chest as if to hold him in place.
He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest half-exposed by her low-cut white blouse. His gaze seemed stuck on that creamy white flesh no matter how desperately his brain sought to unglue his eyes.
But then his brain had a full-time job simply willing his hands to ignore the overwhelming temptation to touch Kyra.
When her lips touched his, he lost the battle.
Sensation exploded through him at the brush of her soft mouth. There was a sweet taste to her that even the beer couldn’t hide, and he drank her in like water, swirling his tongue with hers in an effort to savor every nuance.
His hand moved to her shoulder, powerless to remain immobile any longer. He molded the delicate skin of her collarbone, his thumb dipping down to the gentle swell of her breast above the neckline of her blouse.
And then it was as if someone had tossed gasoline on the fire of his want for her. Heat exploded inside him in time with that touch, burning through him with a fierce desire to scoop her up and walk her into the bedroom he knew was at the back of the house.
He could only think about laying her down and unfastening the laces that held the leather garment together. About seeing the perfect breasts she’d been hiding from him her whole life.
She moaned low in her throat as she edged her way closer to him, settling those delectable breasts against the insubstantial cotton of his tank shirt. The beaded peaks rasping over his chest tantalized him to touch.
To taste.
It’s just a kiss. He repeated the lie over and over again in his mind, needing to give himself permission to hold her, to indulge this fantasy come to life for just a few minutes.
Her sunny scent wrapped around him with renewed strength as their body temperatures soared. The stucco wall scraped into his back, a discomfort he barely acknowledged while in counterpoint to the lush softness of Kyra plastered to his front.
Soft blond hair tickled his arm where it wrapped around her back, teased his nose when he bent to kiss her neck and taste her warm skin.
“Jesse,” she sighed as she tipped her head back, granting him free reign over her body.
He smoothed a hand down her arm and over her hip as he kissed her neck down to one shoulder. The feel of the leather corset in his hand called him back to the place where a neat bow held her outfit together.
If this was just a kiss, he wouldn’t go there.
If this was just a kiss, he’d sure as hell never untie those ribbon-thin leather straps and free the breasts he wanted so damn badly.
But with the encouragement of her hips wriggling against his own, Jesse tugged one end of the bow until the laces slid free. He told himself he would be content just to look. One glimpse of those breasts and he was out of here.
Then his gaze connected with Kyra’s in the moody, flickering hallway light. Perhaps his intentions were written in some small facet of his expression because she grabbed one of his hands and laid it to rest on her breast, catapulting him into major meltdown mode. The peaked nipple lined up perfectly between his thumb and forefinger as if to beg for his touch.
“Come with me,” she whispered, never releasing his hand as she backed up a step.
Oh, how he wanted to.
He wanted nothing better than to come with her about ten times before morning. To make her hot, wet and mindless for him.
But to take advantage of Kyra’s momentary lapse of judgment would be the equivalent of hurting her, sooner or later. Besides, he could somehow still believe himself redeemable if he didn’t seduce his own best friend.
Hissing a sigh between his teeth, he had to face up to that fact. “I can’t do this.”
Of all the rules he’d broken in his life, Kyra Stafford was one line he had promised himself he would never, ever cross.
THE FINISH LINE loomed ten feet away in the form of her bedroom, but Kyra sensed she wouldn’t be clearing that threshold soon enough.
Jesse obviously possessed powers of restraint foreign to her if he could stop himself in the midst of the conflagration that had been going on between them. Either that or those kisses hadn’t affected him nearly as much as they were affecting her.
The thought daunted her in spite of the molten heat churning through her veins and the tingly alertness of every square inch of her skin. But damn it, if she didn’t press her case now, she knew she’d never have another chance. Once Jesse quit helping her out around the Crooked Branch two weeks from now, she wouldn’t even see him as much let alone have an excuse to indulge in sexy captive scenarios with him.
If she was ever going to live out her fantasy with him—or have an opportunity to get over his sexy self for good—Kyra needed to act now.
“You can’t?” Kyra forced her breathing to some semblance of normal and scavenged for a teasing smile as she hoisted her corset back into place. “You say that as if you had some choice in the matter.”
Jesse scrubbed a hand through his too-long dark hair, his gaze straying encouragingly often to Kyra’s leather outfit. “It’s the right choice and you know it.”
“I know no such thing. I left the festival with you because I thought you understood what I expected.” Had she been so wrong to think maybe they’d end up together after he’d hauled her out of Gasparilla for mentioning nipple rings? She tugged the laces tighter on her pirate garb. “You can’t just quit the game now that we’re out of Tampa.”
“The hell I can’t.” He turned his back on her while she tied the leather straps into a bow. Squeezing his temples with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, he stepped out of the hallway and into the wide-open courtyard behind the living room.
“Spoilsport,” she called after him, removing her boots as she followed him out into the late-afternoon sunshine spilling across the terracotta tiles. He sat on top of a teakwood table facing a simple marble birdbath fountain in the center of the courtyard. “Maybe you ought to take me back to the festival so I can find someone more willing.”
She leaned against the table he sat on, giving her a rare opportunity to be nearly eye-to-eye with a man half a foot taller than her.
“You’re going nowhere today even if I have to lock you in the house to make sure of that.”
She smoothed one of the leather straps to her corset between two fingers. “Why not just tie me to my bedpost instead?”
He opened his mouth to speak and snapped it shut again. He swallowed.