A Lover's Vow. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
was dominating hers, stroking it into submission while sending erogenous shivers through her body. What kind of kiss had the ability to do that?
Before she could answer, he shifted his body and she felt him, even through her leather coat. His hard thighs definitely had an erection between them, and that erection was sending one hell of a need spiraling through every part of her body, making their mouths devour each other even more greedily.
Pangs of sensual hunger shot through her at the same time a powerful rush of emotions thrust her into deeper submission. It would not have been so bad if she hadn’t spent the past three months dreaming about kissing him, fantasizing about how he tasted, how he would use his tongue. She’d imagined his manly scent was imbued into his skin, and she knew the only way to find out would be to taste him. The thought of her tongue coming into contact with his flesh sent sensuous shivers escalating all through her. This was her punishment for allowing him to invade her dreams at night. Now that she was sampling what she’d fantasized about, she was finding it hard to regain control.
He sank his mouth deeper into hers, and before she could wonder how he’d managed to do such a thing, she heard herself purr. Purr? No man had ever made her purr.
The kiss suddenly ended, and she felt herself swept off her feet into strong arms. He stared down at her with eyes glistening with lust, and his mouth curved into a sexy smile. “I figured you’d come to me sooner or later, when horniness got the best of you,” he said before leaning down to take her mouth again.
This time she did have the sense to push him away and quickly scrambled out of his arms. “I told you to pretend to kiss me, you ass.” She was tempted to lick her lips but refused to give him the satisfaction.
Before she could blink, he had her body pinned to the door, holding her arms above her head. How had that happened? Her reflexes were normally good, right on point. His move had been too swift and had caught her off guard. She could lift her leg and knee him in the balls but, for some reason, damaging him there was something she just couldn’t make herself do, especially after coming into contact with such a robust erection.
He was glaring down at her with eyes filled with anger. “I don’t know why you showed up here at this hour, Jules, with a fucking request about pretending to kiss you, but I’m warning you of two things. Never call me an ass again, and never ever tell me to go fuck myself.”
She glared back. “And if I do?”
He leaned in, his face just inches from hers. “It would be a real shame, since that beautiful mouth should be used in far more interesting ways than saying unladylike things. I’d love to let you try it out on me.” He grinned, a little of the predator showing through, but well in check.
She drew in a deep breath while slowly raising her knee, deciding maybe she should shove him in the balls, after all. “And I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” he warned. “I happen to like my jewels and would retaliate if any harm came to them.”
However, to be on the safe side, he released her and took a step back as piercing dark eyes stared up at him. “So if you aren’t here to give me the one thing I want from you, then why are you here?”
His question made her remember why she was here, and she pulled the Glock from inside her coat.
“Damn! Why do you have a gun?” he asked, backing up even more. “This anomisity between us isn’t that serious. Let’s talk about it.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to explain things, Dalton. I need to use the back entrance to your place and—”
“What the hell is going on?”
Already, her eyes were scanning his condo. It was as elegant on the inside as it was on the outside. She spotted the kitchen and moved toward it. “Can’t talk now. I’ll fill you in later.”
He blocked her path. “Like hell you will. You can’t show up at my place at almost midnight, ask me to pretend to kiss you, pull out a gun and then ask to see my back door.”
She had to agree the situation did seem weird. “You’ve been followed.”
“What?”
“I said, you were followed tonight.”
Penetrating eyes stared down at her, and she had to fight against just how achingly handsome he was standing there in his silk bathrobe. She couldn’t help wondering if he had any clothing on underneath it.
“I was followed?”
“Yes.”
“And you know this how?” he asked, crossing powerful arms over his chest, making his robe rise a little, exposing powerful legs, hard thighs and an erection that hadn’t gone down.
“I was parked outside, waiting for you to come home.” When she saw a semblance of heat flare in his eyes, she decided to explain herself before he thought the wrong thing. “Shana mentioned earlier today that you weren’t coming to her dinner party Saturday night. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. So I felt the two of us needed to discuss it.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. If you were going to be there, then I wasn’t. Now back to the part about why you thought I was followed.”
She was about to call him an ass again but remembered his warning. “I’m a PI, Dalton. I can recognize a tail. In fact, the person is still parked out there. I plan to go out through your back door and catch him by surprise.”
Her story sounded too far-fetched to have been made up. He’d been followed? Hadn’t he been getting an eerie feeling about that lately? He stared at her. “You sure?”
“Positive. Now I need to—”
“Wait.”
“Like hell I’ll wait, and don’t suggest we call the police,” she said. “I used to be a cop. I can handle this.”
From the way she was handling that Glock, he believed her. But still, if someone was out there, it might be a foe of the USN, the United Security Network. A few years ago, he’d worked as an agent for the United States Government while living in Europe. No one knew...except for Lady Victoria Bowman, one of his former lovers, but his secret was safe with her. His brothers didn’t even know of his involvement with the USN, and his identity and role in the agency was never to be revealed. But what if it had been?
“I need to get dressed,” he said, moving toward his bedroom. “Your assumption that I was followed might be a misunderstanding.”
“Why?”
Jules was asking too many damned questions. “Just sit tight for a second. If the person is just sitting there, that means he won’t be going anywhere.” He closed his bedroom door behind him and quickly began dialing a number he’d hoped he had no reason to ever call again.
A gruff voice came on the line. “It’s late, Granger.”
“That’s too fucking bad. I was followed tonight,” Dalton said, tossing off his robe and grabbing a pair of jeans and shirt from his closet.
There was a pause, and the voice that asked the next question was now alert, attentive. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay. Give me less than five and I’ll call you back.”
“All right.” Dalton hung up the phone. He finished dressing and was slipping into his shoes when he got a call back...in less than five. “Okay, what’s the deal?” he asked.
“Nothing on our end. If you’re being followed, it has nothing to do with us.”
Dalton wasn’t sure whether he should feel relieved or exasperated.
“You must have pissed someone off, Granger.”
The only person he knew he’d pissed off was presently standing in his living room. “Possibly.”
“Take