Run the Risk. Lori Foster

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СКАЧАТЬ bra confounded him. It couldn’t be comfortable.

      “Don’t.” She caught his wrist and drew his hand down to her waist, but she didn’t step away from him.

      “Okay.” He pressed his hand lower, to her belly, and asked, “Is this better?”

      She shocked him by nodding.

      Need held him in a powerful grip; he pressed his hand lower, between her thighs, cupping her through the long skirt and insubstantial underwear.

      They both breathed harder.

      She parted her thighs.

      Amazing. So this was okay, but her breasts were off-limits? Prodded by concern, by the idea that she could be scarred, or worse, he asked, “Why, honey?”

      Pressing back against him, she put her hand over his, encouraging him to continue while muttering low, “No questions.”

      Not being a fool, Logan agreed. When he got her in bed, he’d get her naked, and then he’d figure it out on his own. He’d reassure her and let her know whatever it was, it didn’t matter, not between them.

      She flattened her hands on his thighs, and her nails dug into him. He heard the catch in her breathing, savored the heat of her, how she moved against his exploring fingers.

      For the longest time they stood there like that, in the dark with the storm all around them, damp, hot, necking and petting. He grinned against her shoulder. “I haven’t done this since high school.”

      It took a little while before she asked, “This?”

      “Making out. Fooling around with my clothes on.” He pressed his hard-on against her. “Getting so frustrated, I almost can’t take it.”

      She groaned—and started to step away.

      Logan turned them both instead and brought her down to the bed. He sprawled out over her, kissing her hard, deep, hoping to obliterate any objections.

      She had none.

      Of her own accord she parted her legs so that he fit between them. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she held him close while he kissed her.

      When he again reached for her breast—dying to see her, to touch her—she stalled. “Wait.”

      Of course he did. Balanced over her, edgy with need, their breaths mingling, he…waited.

      Her body beneath his was an indistinct form, but he felt her urgency, the way she stared at him, and her indecision.

      Her hands kneaded his chest. “If we’re going to do this—”

      “I hope we are.”

      “—then I need the curtains closed.”

      Even though it was black as pitch outside? He looked toward the window. Was she afraid a flash of lightning would show him something? Like what? Thinking to encourage her, he said, “You don’t need to—”

      “And you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

      Thoughts, ugly suspicions, bounded this way and that. He gave her a gentle kiss. “I don’t understand.” Any of it, including the driving need to discover her hang-ups. “I’ve got my hands on you now.” He emphasized that by tucking her hair back, smoothing her cheek with his thumb.

      “I don’t want you…feeling around on me.”

      Moving his body over hers, he growled, “I can feel you. All of you.” He closed his eyes at the giving softness of her curves, the open cradle of her thighs. “You’re soft and hot and—”

      A little panicked—or else very close to the edge of release—she said in a high voice, “Promise me right now, or we’re done.”

      Unease warred with conviction. He couldn’t keep from brushing gentle kisses on the bridge of her nose, her brow, and he wanted to go on kissing her. Everywhere. “Whatever it is, honey, I swear to you, it’s okay.”

      “It’s me.” Stroking her hands around to his back, fraught with uncertainty, she clutched at him. “I need my clothes on. I need the lights out. I need you to keep your hands mostly to yourself.”

      Jesus. “When I mentioned high school, I wasn’t looking for a reenactment.”

      She sucked in a breath. “Fine.” Shaking, she pushed against him while trying to turn away from him. “Then let’s forget about—”

      “No way.” He brought her face back around to his and again kissed her, softer, deeper. “You can trust me, Sue.” Like hell. “I won’t hurt you.” Damn it.

      In the near darkness, they watched each other. Her eyes glimmered, but he couldn’t see her well enough to decipher her thoughts.

      She touched his jaw. “Let me up.”

      Damn, damn, damn. Flopping over to his back with a groan, Logan stared toward the ceiling, hot, frustrated, but mostly troubled. From the knees down, his legs hung over the end of the bed.

      The part the rain had soaked.

      The wind howled eerily, suiting his mood. Thunder crashed, and he felt it in his chest.

      He didn’t want things to end like this.

      He rose up on one arm. “Sue?” It amazed him that he kept the forethought to continue using her alias. There remained just enough light filtering in for him to see her shadowy form as she lifted her skirt.

      Lust tied him in knots. He drew in necessary oxygen. “What are you doing?”

      “Taking off my panties.” She dropped them on the floor and crossed to the window to close the heavy curtains. “Only my panties.”

      His heart thundered. “Yeah, all right.” Lust cut into him. When he felt her approach, he dropped back to the bed in an agony of suspense, breath held, erection straining.

      Her hands went to the fastening of his jeans. With a small tug, she opened the snap. “I shouldn’t do this,” she said.

      He heartily disagreed.

      She pushed his jeans down to his knees. “I’ll probably regret it.”

      He wouldn’t let her feel regret. Somehow he’d make it okay—

      Her hand curled around him, and his thoughts shattered on a rough groan.

      Keeping his cock held tight in her small, hot hand, she climbed onto the bed to straddle his hips. She’d lifted her skirt; her panties were indeed gone. “Please don’t ruin this for me, Logan.”

      “No.” Hell, no. “I won’t.”

      Sitting back a little, she stroked him once, then released him. “Can you put on this condom?”

      Where the hell had she gotten it?

      Screw СКАЧАТЬ