little trigger happy girl boner?’
The flash in those violet eyes was the only warning he received and it coincided with the crack of her hand on his cheek.
Since she had the muscle tone of a tealeaf it didn’t hurt.
He could tell by the too wide eyes, the jerky inhale of breath, that she’d shocked herself.
And that was Coco all over.
No restraint.
All temper and tantrums.
Her hand fisted.
He gripped her slim wrist and he could feel the too hectic pulse under his fingers.
‘Lift your hand to me again I’ll have you over my knee and give you the thorough spanking you deserve.’
Heat flashed into her cheeks, and then slid away leaving her bone white.
She tried to jerk free but he held her delicate wrist tight, just in case.
But then that mouth went mutinous and her chin jerked up.
Little cat.
His lips were still glistening wet from hers.
Then he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, as if tasting her. A move so erotic it made her sex clench, and Coco knew she’d never been kissed like that, touched like that, before.
And the liquidly empty ache in her womb was a wild and wicked thing. A need that made her clench her jaw.
‘We,’ she said in a tone that would melt solid steel. ‘Are not having sex.’
Perfectly aware that the comment was a feeble attempt to take control of a situation fast running away with her, Coco couldn’t quite believe she’d fallen apart in his arms, just had the most amazing orgasm from a man she detested. And had those words really come out of her mouth?
But by the twitch of his lips, by the gleam in his amazing eyes apparently they had.
‘Well, God, there go my plans to strip you naked, toss you on the floor and fuck your brains out.’
‘You,’ she said with utter loathing. ‘Are a tosser.’
‘Tsk, tsk, Ms Monroe. Language. Mouth. Wash. Soap.’
His eyes, dancing with sheer mischief, made him look too damned attractive for his own good and had Coco fall back on the age-old standard.
‘I hate you.’
‘I know you do.’
‘I mean it. You will never, ever, have sex with me.’
Humour now replaced mischief in eyes the colour of melted dark chocolate.
He slapped his hand over his heart, patted it twice.
‘Now you’ve broken it.’
Charismatic bastard.
He didn’t have a heart to break.
Drawn to him in spite of herself, she threw him a narrow-eyed look.
‘I have not.’
Needing to gather herself together and to make her standpoint crystal clear, Coco moved to a table with drinks, glasses, poured herself water.
The way her legs, her hands, trembled seriously annoyed her.
Served her right.
This is what happened when a woman didn’t have regular sexual release. Her whole body was suffering from nothing more than a pent-up arousal. All it had taken was a charismatic seducer to press the right button, so to speak, and she’d gone off like a rocket.
She couldn’t believe she’d actually hit him. The thought had no more entered her head and she’d acted upon it.
Now she’d admitted that he’d scared her.
She’d scared herself by the way her body responded to his.
Her breasts were swollen, the nipples too tender. And the heavy pulse low in her belly, slick between her legs, was a horrible gnawing throb of need.
He moved to sit on a low couch, leaned back, stretching out long legs.
Oh, God, she couldn’t miss his swollen erection tenting his suit trousers.
Most men she knew would be demanding her to take care of it.
Not Rafe, he just sat there looking all cool, calm and collected.
As if he wasn’t at all bothered that his shaft was reaching for the sky. She’d never been a selfish person in bed. He must be really hurting, not that she’d know it by looking at him.
Well tough, he started it so he could just sit there and suffer.
Her gaze took a leisurely stroll from the top of his polished head to his hand-made shoes and back again.
Why couldn’t she hate him?
Life would be so much easier.
Dark eyes slid from hers to his
The flash in those violet eyes was the only warning he received and it coincided with the crack of her hand on his cheek.
Since she had the muscle tone of a tealeaf it didn’t hurt.
He could tell by the too wide eyes, the jerky inhale of breath, that she’d shocked herself.
And that was Coco all over.
No restraint.
All temper and tantrums.
Her hand fisted.
He gripped her slim wrist and he could feel the too hectic pulse under his fingers.
‘Lift your hand to me again I’ll have you over my knee and give you the thorough spanking you deserve.’
Heat flashed into her cheeks, and then slid away leaving her bone white.
She tried to jerk free but he held her delicate wrist tight, just in case.
But then that mouth went mutinous and her chin jerked up.
Little cat.
His lips were still glistening wet from hers.
Then he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, as if tasting her. A move so erotic it made her sex clench, and Coco knew she’d never been kissed like that, touched like that, before.
And the liquidly empty ache in her womb was a wild and wicked thing. A need that made her clench her jaw.
‘We,’ she said in a tone that would melt solid steel. ‘Are not having sex.’
Perfectly aware that the comment was a feeble attempt to take control of a situation fast running away with her, Coco couldn’t quite believe she’d fallen apart in his arms, just had the most amazing orgasm from a man she detested. And had those words really come out of her mouth?
But by the twitch of his lips, by the gleam in his amazing eyes apparently they had.
‘Well, God, there go my plans to strip you naked, toss you on the floor and fuck your brains out.’
‘You,’ she said with utter loathing. ‘Are a tosser.’
‘Tsk, tsk, Ms Monroe. Language. Mouth. Wash. Soap.’
His eyes, dancing with sheer mischief, made him look too damned attractive for his own good and had Coco fall back on the age-old standard.
‘I hate you.’
‘I know you do.’
‘I mean it. You will never, ever, have sex with me.’
Humour now replaced mischief in eyes the colour of melted dark chocolate.
He slapped his hand over his heart, patted it twice.
‘Now you’ve broken it.’
Charismatic bastard.
He didn’t have a heart to break.
Drawn to him in spite of herself, she threw him a narrow-eyed look.
‘I have not.’
Needing to gather herself together and to make her standpoint crystal clear, Coco moved to a table with drinks, glasses, poured herself water.
The way her legs, her hands, trembled seriously annoyed her.
Served her right.
This is what happened when a woman didn’t have regular sexual release. Her whole body was suffering from nothing more than a pent-up arousal. All it had taken was a charismatic seducer to press the right button, so to speak, and she’d gone off like a rocket.
She couldn’t believe she’d actually hit him. The thought had no more entered her head and she’d acted upon it.
Now she’d admitted that he’d scared her.
She’d scared herself by the way her body responded to his.
Her breasts were swollen, the nipples too tender. And the heavy pulse low in her belly, slick between her legs, was a horrible gnawing throb of need.
He moved to sit on a low couch, leaned back, stretching out long legs.
Oh, God, she couldn’t miss his swollen erection tenting his suit trousers.
Most men she knew would be demanding her to take care of it.
Not Rafe, he just sat there looking all cool, calm and collected.
As if he wasn’t at all bothered that his shaft was reaching for the sky. She’d never been a selfish person in bed. He must be really hurting, not that she’d know it by looking at him.
Well tough, he started it so he could just sit there and suffer.
Her gaze took a leisurely stroll from the top of his polished head to his hand-made shoes and back again.
Why couldn’t she hate him?
Life would be so much easier.
Dark eyes slid from hers to his
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