kiss was literally taking her breath away, appealing to all her senses in a way she had never known before.
"Locke," she murmured against his mouth when he reluctantly broke that contact to nibble at the corners of her lips and the line of her jaw.
"You see, darling?" he husked as his hands probed beneath the waistband of the skirt. "You see how good it's going to be? I told you. ..."
"No," she protested halfheartedly, trembling as his fingers clenched into the flesh of her buttocks. "You never told me! You attacked me!"
"You're the one doing the attacking now," he gritted urgently, his teeth sinking almost painfully into her sensitized earlobe. "I hope you appreciate that I'm not fighting you the way you fought me a few minutes ago!"
"Such a good sport," she drawled in sultry humor.
"This is no time to laugh at me, sweet adversary!"
And he punished her with the elegant torment of his hands on her skin. Her reaction was instinctive. She twined herself more closely than ever, her legs twisting in need on the couch.
"My God! Did I ever have the wrong approach tonight! I should have just begun by asking for the kiss," Locke groaned as her fingers slipped down to his open collar and began unfastening the buttons of his shirt.
"You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar," she quoted blissfully, her fingers winding through the crisp mat of hair on his chest.
"I don't know why I never paid more attention to that old cliche. Any others I should know about?" His mouth was moving down her throat and one hand was sliding around her waist to the small curve of her stomach.
She touched his thigh and smiled as she felt him tremble. "Probably, but I can't seem to think of them at the moment."
"Don't try to think," he advised. "Just feel!"
He had her jacket off now, and in another moment the blouse would be lying on the carpet beside it. Kelly moved in response to his manipulation of the fabric, and her eyes fluttered open for an instant.
It was long enough to catch sight of the mounted foils behind the couch. And for some reason they brought reality back in a rush.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he whispered, sensing her sudden tension.
"Nothing," she told him, deliberately pulling her chaotic senses together in preparation for the emotional and physical withdrawal. What had she done? What in the world was the matter with her?
"Kelly . . ."
She moved her head back against his shoulder and met the jade-green gaze with the sum of her will. With every ounce of energy she possessed, she curved her lips into a mocking smile.
"I've paid the forfeit. May I please go home now?"
"For God's sake, woman! How can you talk about leaving?" he growled. She could feel his whole body tighten, and the power in it should have frightened her but it didn't. It lured and beckoned and summoned. . . .
"You said one kiss and then you'd take me home," she reminded him sweetly, wondering what it would be like if he simply ignored her baiting demand. Whatever followed, she knew it would be unlike anything else she had ever experienced. And that alone was almost enough to make her stay.
"Stay until morning and we'll call the match a draw," he begged softly, coaxingly, green eyes like wanned emeralds.
"No." She shook her head lazily. "It wouldn't be a draw. It would be a victory—for you. I'm not about to make it so easy for you, Locke Channing!"
He stared at her as if trying to read her mind behind the sensuously hooded blue eyes. For a moment she thought she had indeed lost. The tension in the room was a living thing. She knew his instincts were riding high in that span of time. It would take very little for them to conquer the thin layer of civilization. Kelly lay very still in his lap and waited for her fate to be decided.
Abruptly it was over. With a movement that spun her sense of balance Locke set her on her feet, rising to stand beside her in a swift, fluid motion. For a split second his hands clasped her shoulders and
"Locke," she murmured against his mouth when he reluctantly broke that contact to nibble at the corners of her lips and the line of her jaw.
"You see, darling?" he husked as his hands probed beneath the waistband of the skirt. "You see how good it's going to be? I told you. ..."
"No," she protested halfheartedly, trembling as his fingers clenched into the flesh of her buttocks. "You never told me! You attacked me!"
"You're the one doing the attacking now," he gritted urgently, his teeth sinking almost painfully into her sensitized earlobe. "I hope you appreciate that I'm not fighting you the way you fought me a few minutes ago!"
"Such a good sport," she drawled in sultry humor.
"This is no time to laugh at me, sweet adversary!"
And he punished her with the elegant torment of his hands on her skin. Her reaction was instinctive. She twined herself more closely than ever, her legs twisting in need on the couch.
"My God! Did I ever have the wrong approach tonight! I should have just begun by asking for the kiss," Locke groaned as her fingers slipped down to his open collar and began unfastening the buttons of his shirt.
"You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar," she quoted blissfully, her fingers winding through the crisp mat of hair on his chest.
"I don't know why I never paid more attention to that old cliche. Any others I should know about?" His mouth was moving down her throat and one hand was sliding around her waist to the small curve of her stomach.
She touched his thigh and smiled as she felt him tremble. "Probably, but I can't seem to think of them at the moment."
"Don't try to think," he advised. "Just feel!"
He had her jacket off now, and in another moment the blouse would be lying on the carpet beside it. Kelly moved in response to his manipulation of the fabric, and her eyes fluttered open for an instant.
It was long enough to catch sight of the mounted foils behind the couch. And for some reason they brought reality back in a rush.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he whispered, sensing her sudden tension.
"Nothing," she told him, deliberately pulling her chaotic senses together in preparation for the emotional and physical withdrawal. What had she done? What in the world was the matter with her?
"Kelly . . ."
She moved her head back against his shoulder and met the jade-green gaze with the sum of her will. With every ounce of energy she possessed, she curved her lips into a mocking smile.
"I've paid the forfeit. May I please go home now?"
"For God's sake, woman! How can you talk about leaving?" he growled. She could feel his whole body tighten, and the power in it should have frightened her but it didn't. It lured and beckoned and summoned. . . .
"You said one kiss and then you'd take me home," she reminded him sweetly, wondering what it would be like if he simply ignored her baiting demand. Whatever followed, she knew it would be unlike anything else she had ever experienced. And that alone was almost enough to make her stay.
"Stay until morning and we'll call the match a draw," he begged softly, coaxingly, green eyes like wanned emeralds.
"No." She shook her head lazily. "It wouldn't be a draw. It would be a victory—for you. I'm not about to make it so easy for you, Locke Channing!"
He stared at her as if trying to read her mind behind the sensuously hooded blue eyes. For a moment she thought she had indeed lost. The tension in the room was a living thing. She knew his instincts were riding high in that span of time. It would take very little for them to conquer the thin layer of civilization. Kelly lay very still in his lap and waited for her fate to be decided.
Abruptly it was over. With a movement that spun her sense of balance Locke set her on her feet, rising to stand beside her in a swift, fluid motion. For a split second his hands clasped her shoulders and
Similar Books
Cloud Rebel: R-D 3
Connie Suttle
Here I Stay
KATHY
Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series
GJ Walker-Smith
Unlaced Corset
Michael Meadows
Keeker and the Horse Show Show-Off
Hadley Higginson
Everybody's Daughter
Michael John Sullivan
Playing for Keeps
Veronica Chambers
Germinal
Émile Zola
Anna Jacobs
Mistress of Marymoor