Two of a Kind. Сьюзен Мэллери

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      He forced himself back to the present. “I could teach you some breathing techniques that might help.”

      She laughed.

      The sweet, happy sound filled the silence of the night. It was the kind of sound that could save a man, he realized. Or bring him to his knees.

      The need grew and, with it, the understanding that he couldn’t take the risk.

      “It’s late,” he told her.

      “I’m aware of the time. The movement of the stars and the moon are a clear...” Her humor faded. “Oh, you’re asking me to leave.”

      “You have a long drive back.”

      She stood. “It’s three-point-seven miles, but that’s not the point. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thanks for talking to me. It helped.”

      He felt as if he’d kicked a kitten. “Felicia, don’t read too much into this.” He rose. “Look. Like you said, it’s complicated.”

      She looked into his eyes. “People say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”

      The truth? Tension had returned and, with it, his arousal. Restlessness made him want to move, but he knew the value of staying still.

      She put her hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingers to his biceps. “You’re very powerful. More muscled than Justice. His body type is leaner, and he has to work harder to bulk up. Your physiology allows you to add muscle more quickly. It’s...interesting.”

      As was the warmth of her skin, he thought, watching her green eyes darken slightly as her features sharpened and her gaze intensified. The air seemed charged as energy flowed between them. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but he was starting to have a good idea.

      “Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded.

      The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’m trying to flirt. Sorry. It’s harder than it looks. I guess it’s all the nuances.”

      She swayed toward him. “Our previous encounter was very satisfying. There have been two other men, and it wasn’t the same. I suppose it’s one of those intangibles that can’t be measured. With you, I felt more comfortable. We laughed and talked in addition to making love. I remember that we ordered champagne and you—”

      He knew exactly what he’d done with a mouthful of champagne. He remembered everything about their night together.

      Unable to stop himself, he put his hands on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly, her head already slightly raised so he barely had to bend to kiss her.

      * * *

      YES, FELICIA THOUGHT, as Gideon’s mouth pressed against hers. She let her eyes sink closed as she lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers.

      The kiss was gentler than she remembered. As if he were retracing steps. She let herself feel the heat radiating out from a central point low in her belly and get lost in the image of fire dancing across her skin.

      She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He moved his hands from her waist to her back, then slid them up and down. She wanted to stretch and purr, she thought, her brain cataloging the various sensations of his kiss, his fingers, the heat where they touched, chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He stiffened and drew back a little.

      While she wasn’t usually one for insights, she was acutely aware that he had yet to decide. That the kiss had been more reaction than plan and he was still in a place where he could say no. She didn’t know why he would refuse, but understood he still could.

      She opened her eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his gaze filled with indecision.

      “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.

      She smiled. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”

      Four years ago she had pursued Gideon, she thought. Had picked him from all the other men in the bar that night. As she had said, there was something about him. His strength, of course. Nearly any female would respond well to a powerful man. That was merely biology. But there had been something else. An elusive sense of rightness, although if she did some research, she could probably figure out what it was.

      Now the need to be with him was as strong, and for a similar reason, she realized. She was unsettled. Confused. There had been so many changes in her life, and the job offer had provided a tipping point of sorts. She needed to feel anchored and safe. How strange she would seek that in Gideon’s arms.

      She didn’t have many gut instincts—another hazard of living in her head. But she had learned to trust them when they occurred, and right now her gut was telling her that she wanted to have sex with this man. Hot, hungry sex.

      “I want this,” she murmured, still working through the questions.

      She studied him, his broad shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. Her gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining against his jeans.

      Anticipation joined satisfaction. There was no time to get her sweat glands working to tip the scales, so to speak. She would have to be more direct.

      She quickly pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it onto the lounge chair beside her. Then she undid her bra and let it fall on top of her shirt.

      Gideon’s jaw tightened, but otherwise, he didn’t move. She reached for his hands, took them in hers and placed them on her bare breasts.

      Perhaps from instinct or perhaps because he couldn’t resist, he cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs against her nipples. She hadn’t felt them tighten, but when she glanced down she saw the tips were puckered.

      He moved his thumbs again, and the gentle pressure sent pleasure moving all through her. His skin was more tanned against her paleness. His hands large. He moved back and forth against her until she felt her eyelids start to sink closed so she could get lost in how he made her feel.

      She drew in a breath. “I’m enjoying everything you’re doing and—”

      “Shut up.”

      Her eyes popped open, and she saw him smiling.

      “Too much conversation?”

      “Yes. This is when it’s best to be quiet.”

      Relief made her nearly as weak as his hands on her breasts.

      “So we’re going to have sex?”

      His answer was to haul her against him and thrust his tongue in her mouth. She met him stroke for stroke, wanting every sensation possible, wanting, no, needing, to be intimate with this man. Vulnerable.

      As soon as the thought occurred, she felt herself starting to analyze what it meant. She did her best to turn off her analytical brain and focus instead on the feel of his soft T-shirt under her fingers, of his broad shoulders.

      He deepened the kiss, then broke СКАЧАТЬ