The Danforths: Wesley, Ian & Imogene: Scandal Between the Sheets / The Boss Man's Fortune / Challenged by the Sheikh. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
he had made in college, and she could tell the Danforths had been supportive. This explained his fierce loyalty to the Danforths and why he considered them as his family. In a way she understood because she was fiercely loyal to her father, as well.
“Well, that about does it with the dishes,” she said, putting the last one away. “If you’d like, I can prepare you a bowl of spaghetti to take with you since I have so much left.”
“Are you sure?”
She smiled. “Yes, I’m positive. It won’t take but a second.”
He leaned back against the counter as he watched her spoon a hefty portion of spaghetti into a large bowl and then wrapped it with clear cling wrap. She also wrapped up a few pieces of garlic bread. After bagging up both, she placed the bag in the middle of the table. It was then that they heard the raindrops beginning to fall and a quick glance out the window indicated the clouds had been much closer than they’d thought. The rain was already coming down fast and furious.
“Maybe you should wait until the rain stops,” she said. She walked over to the window and looked out. “It’s a mess out there.”
“Then if you don’t mind, I’ll just wait a while.”
She turned around and met his gaze. “I don’t mind,” she said quietly. She shivered slightly either from the chill that had entered the room or from the way Wesley was looking at her.
He saw her tremble and crossed the room. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in those big powerful arms she had admired earlier when he’d been changing her tire. “This feel better?” he asked. The question had been whispered close to her ear and sent more shivers through her body. Shivers that he felt.
“You’re still shivering,” he said softly. “Maybe I should light your fireplace to warm you up some.”
When he released her, Jasmine looked into his hazel eyes, tempted to tell him that her shivers had nothing to do with the temperature in the room and had everything to do with him.
A fierce storm may have been raging outside but here, inside her kitchen, deep within her body, another storm was raging. This one was just as turbulent as the one outdoors. And it wasn’t helping matters that he was looking at her like she was something he wanted to eat.
“Lighting the fireplace isn’t necessary,” she said softly, barely able to get the words out.
“Would you rather we sit in your living room on the sofa?” he asked, not taking his eyes from her as his fingertips grazed the smoothness of her arm.
His touch was sending sensations escalating through her entire body and the only thing she could do was nod. Wesley removed his arm from around her shoulders and extended his hand to her. She took it and they walked through the kitchen to the living room. He sat down on the sofa then pulled her down into his lap.
She gasped in surprise and felt the heat of his gaze when she looked at him.
“Relax and let me warm you,” he said softly, snuggling her closer into his arms. She felt the moistness of his breath against her forehead.
She sighed, deciding to give in and let him hold her while the rain beat down on the roof. Nothing was said between them as they sat listening to the sound of the thunderstorm and watching the occasional flash of lightning. Jasmine had never been afraid of storms, but for some reason, she appreciated the fact she was not alone—more so that Wesley was the one with her, holding her tight in his arms as if there was no other place he’d rather be.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of the storm and their even breathing. Then she suddenly noticed Wesley’s breathing wasn’t even anymore. It was beginning to come out choppy and rough. She noted the change the exact moment she felt the hard bulge in his pants press against her bottom.
A warm sensation slithered slowly up her spine and she shifted in his arms, lifted her face from his chest and looked at him. Their gazes locked, and slowly, lifting her mouth to his seemed the most natural thing to do.
He met her halfway, capturing her mouth, stealing whatever breath she had and kissing her as deeply as anyone could be kissed. His tongue probed, coaxed, and delivered a sudden throbbing between her thighs.
The kiss claimed everything within her—every thought, every sigh and every moan. Then it created greed, a need and a hunger for something she’d never had but desperately wanted. His tongue was hot, seductive, rapacious, pleasuring her senseless, growling with an urgency that could not be contained.
“I love the way you taste,” Wesley murmured, breaking the kiss long enough to lick her jaw, throat and lips. “I haven’t forgotten it since that night.”
She hadn’t forgotten his taste, either, she wanted to say but couldn’t find her voice. Her pulse increased when he gently bit the flesh near her shoulder, softly branding her. He slipped his hand under her top to caress her breasts through the thin material of her bra and she let out a deep moan. She had never experienced anything like this. She inhaled deeply when he lifted her top and unsnapped the front closure of her bra, baring her breasts to his gaze.
“You’re beautiful.” The words poured from deep within Wesley’s throat as he looked at her breasts, driven with a need to taste her all over. Her breasts were firm, high and the nipples were dark, inviting, enticing and he bent his head to taste her.
His tongue teased her for endless moments. Then he moved on to the other nipple, delivering the same wonderful torment. Jasmine clutched the back of his head to hold his mouth to her breasts.
Wesley’s body responded to her like a schoolboy’s. She stirred feelings within him that he’d never felt before. Suddenly, kissing her and tasting her breasts weren’t enough. He wanted it all. He was consumed with a hot hunger that was burning deep within him and he needed only what she could give. He lifted his head and met her gaze, focusing sharply on her, needing to see her expression, her reaction to his next words.
“I want to make love to you.”
Jasmine returned his gaze and he didn’t move. He barely breathed as he waited for her response. He could tell she was thinking, accepting the fact that making love to him would change everything between them. The question of the hour was, was she ready for that? Was he?
He had to make her understand and he reached out and touched his fingertips to her lips. “I don’t have all the answers, Jasmine. I don’t want to consider the ‘what-ifs.’ All I know is that now, this very moment, I need and want you in a way I’ve never needed or wanted a woman before,” he whispered huskily.
“I want to go inside you so deep so that I’ll know the heat of you and all your glorious warmth. I want to give us pleasure and fulfill our every desire. Will you let me?”
Blood rushed through Jasmine’s veins and she wanted Wesley to claim her in a way no man ever had. She didn’t want to think of the questions left unanswered or the ‘what-ifs,’ either. What she wanted was this night, this time with him. Tomorrow she would deal with the rest.
She wanted to concentrate on the man who held her in his arms; the man who was making her grateful that she was a woman.
And she gave him the only response she could. “I want you to make love to me, too, Wesley,” she whispered.
A slow smile touched his lips and she felt her stomach clench with a need that almost made it impossible for her to breathe. Cradling her body into the warmth of his arms, he eased to his feet. Her arms looped around his neck, she lowered his mouth down to hers, needing to taste him again; the feelings he evoked within her were overpowering.
He parted her lips and took control of the kiss urgently as he clung to the last bit of his sanity. He slowly lifted his head to ask, “Where’s the bedroom?”
She could barely get the words out to answer. “Ahead on your right.”