Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
trying for indignant but getting breathless instead.
He leaned down to suckle the pulse point in her neck. ‘Uh-huh.’
‘Well, you’re wrong,’ she sputtered, but her head dropped back, instinctively giving him better access.
His gaze, dark and intent, fixed on hers as he let one hand drop to snake under her coat and grip her waist. ‘You’re a terrible liar, you know.’ He pulled her flush against him, all trace of amusement gone. ‘Now tell me again you don’t want me and I’ll take you home.’
The gruff invitation and the feel of his rigid arousal pressing into her stomach made the words catch in her throat. She couldn’t say it, because she did want him. And he was right, she’d never been a good liar.
She wanted him more than anything she’d ever wanted. Like a child in a sweet shop, offered the chance to grab as many delights as she could handle.
‘It’s not good to have everything you want,’ she mumbled, mesmerised by the golden flecks that gilded the vivid green of his irises.
His thumb brushed across her nipple and she groaned, the aching tension that shot straight to her sex making resistance futile. ‘It will be tonight,’ he said.
The lift doors opened onto the ground-floor lobby and he eased back. Stepping out, he drew her with him, then dug into the back pocket of his jeans.
He flipped his phone open and dialled without taking his eyes off her. ‘We’re ready now, Dave. How soon can you get here?’
His lips tipped up as he listened to the reply. ‘We’ll be waiting.’
‘How long is it going to take him?’ she asked, her teeth tugging on her lip. She might as well stop pretending that she wasn’t going to jump him as soon as they got back to his suite. Because she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself.
It didn’t matter that he hadn’t told her about his ex-wife. It didn’t even matter that the woman had called her a tart. All that mattered now was that the chemistry was hotter than molten lava—and she couldn’t wait any longer to feel it erupt.
‘Too damn long,’ he said as the chauffeur-driven car squealed to a halt at the kerb.
‘READY for your candy now?’ Jace growled, his voice husky with lust and humour as he kicked the door of the suite shut.
Cassie giggled, adrenaline and desire coursing through her veins. Her back hit the lobby wall with a soft thud, the hard lines of his body flattening her breasts and making her belly throb.
‘Yes, please,’ she flirted back, sinking her fingers into the silky waves of his hair.
Don’t think, just feel. And enjoy. Although relaxing was out of the question, seeing as she was about to explode.
They’d kissed and touched on the ride home, stoking the need to fever pitch, but through their clothes the caresses had been as frustrating as they were exciting.
He fastened his lips on her neck, his hands parting the flaps of her coat. The caress roamed over her hips, tugged up her tunic to settle on her behind. He dragged her towards him, grinding the hard bulge in his jeans against the swell of her stomach. ‘You’ve got too many clothes on.’
Cassie ran her hands inside his leather jacket. Lifting the hem of his sweater, she finally touched bare skin. ‘So do you,’ she moaned.
Her fingertips explored the soft line of hair over washboard-lean abs, the warm skin like velvet over steel.
He shuddered, huffed out a laugh and stepped back. ‘Let’s remedy the situation.’
Shrugging off his jacket, he threw it on the floor. Then reached for her coat. She twisted to help him pull it off. Crossing his arms, he grasped his sweater and struggled out of it.
As he tossed the light jumper away Cassie stared, transfixed, at broad shoulders, beautifully defined pectoral muscles and the curls of dark hair that stood out in tufts under his arms, outlined flat brown nipples and then trailed down to bisect the ridges of his six pack and arrow beneath the buckle of his belt.
Her breath backed up in her lungs. That was one seriously gorgeous chest.
She watched him toe off one of his boots, then bend down to hop on one leg while yanking it off.
What was she doing? She should get naked too. She kicked off her own boots, then grasped the hem of her tunic just as his second boot hit the floor.
He grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she had raised the tunic past her midriff. ‘No.’
She let go, the boldness fading. ‘What’s the matter?’ Didn’t he want her naked?
He swore softly, grunted the single word, ‘Bedroom,’ then started hauling her down the corridor.
He shoved open the door into a large, luxuriously furnished room with an enormous king-sized bed in the centre. Releasing her, he crossed to the bedside table, rummaged around for a second and then flung a cellophane-wrapped box onto the gold bedspread.
‘Condoms,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘I figured I should locate them before I lost the ability to think.’
She smiled, ridiculously pleased to see he was as eager as she was. But when she went to take off her tunic again, he shot back across the room and took both her wrists in his, holding her hands manacled to her side.
‘No. Wait.’ He touched his forehead to hers, pressed his lips to her temple. ‘There’s no rush.’ He breathed in her scent, eased out a steady breath. ‘Let me do it.’
‘Okay,’ she said, surprised to feel an odd catch in her chest.
Taking the bottom of the tunic in his hands, he lifted it gently over her head, tossed it over his shoulder.
She sucked in a breath as the green of his eyes turned to a shining emerald. His dark gaze roamed over her, touching her skin like a physical caress, burning a trail of fire from her cheeks, to her breasts, blazing into her sex and sizzling right down to her toes.
He slid his thumbs and forefingers under the straps of her simple cotton bra, then tugged them off her shoulders. Her breasts became heavy, the nipples swelling into hard peaks as he peeled the cups down, exposing her to his gaze.
The dark arousal flared. ‘Damn,’ he murmured. ‘You’re perfect.’
The little catch in her chest clutched at her heart. No one had ever thought she was perfect before. Let alone said so.
Reaching around her waist, he drew her closer. His lips buzzed her shoulder where the strap had left a red mark as he released the catch on her bra. He dragged it free, flung that away too.
His eyes met hers as he cradled the weight in his palms, circled her nipples with his thumbs. Then he bent to fasten his lips on one aching peak.
Cassie threaded her fingers into the hair at the side of his head, and arched into his mouth, the hot, wet suction sending her senses into overdrive. He suckled strongly, drawing her into his mouth, then pulling back to flick his tongue over the tip, massaging and teasing her other breast with his fingers.
A sob escaped as she writhed. It wasn’t just his fingers that were talented, it seemed. She’d never realised she was so sensitive there. The raw nerves pulsated as moisture flooded between her thighs.
The pressure built and intensified at her core as sparks of fire originated in her nipples, fanned out across her breasts, then darted down to her centre. She shut her eyes, her legs like wet noodles as he transferred his mouth to her other breast.
He stopped the devastating caresses briefly to tear off her tights and panties, then as his mouth returned to her pounding breasts he flattened