Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 1 - 4. Эбби Грин
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Название: Modern Romance Collection: May 2018 Books 1 - 4
Автор: Эбби Грин
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Series Collections
isbn: 9781474084154
isbn:
“Continue to tease me at your peril, woman.” But he made no move to undress her himself, his hands fully occupied with her breasts, his body hot and hard against hers.
She undulated against him, rubbing her bare stomach against his still-covered erection. “But teasing is what you like, my darling Dre.”
He groaned, one hand snaking around her to grind her into his body possessively. “Say that again.”
“You like being teased. We both know it.” The only thing he liked better was teasing her to the point of incoherence.
“Not that.”
She had to stop and think, her brain not functioning on optimum at that moment. “You want me to call you ‘my darling Dre’ again?”
“Yes.”
Oh, that was definite. She’d never used endearments with Andreas back in the day. She hadn’t felt confident enough to despite his dropping things like “pethi mou” and “Kay-love” into conversation. She’d been afraid if she did, it would reveal the depth of her feelings.
But now, well, the words just felt flirty...right. And maybe she didn’t want to keep hiding everything so perfectly. After all, hiding her every inclination before hadn’t managed to save her relationship.
“My darling Dre, is this what you want?” she asked as she wiggled the teal pants down her hips, kicking her shoes off and stepping out of the fabric in the same set of movements.
She stepped back, away from his touch, straightened and cocked one hip, offering him a full-bodied view, allowing herself the same luxury. Unconcerned that she was not one of the supermodels who had graced his arm in the past six years, Kayla took in every inch of Andreas’s glorious body, pushing away any nerves, no room for such between them.
The way his gaze roamed down her womanly figure, stopping at her breasts for significant time and then again at the apex of her thighs, said that he approved the view of her in only the matching peach silk panties with lace insets to the bra she’d discarded earlier.
“You still have a weakness for the store with the pink-striped bags, I see,” he drawled in a low, sexy tone.
She shrugged, some devil inside her prompting her to taunt, “Maybe Jacob helped me pick them out yesterday.”
KAYLA’S SILLY JOKE had a totally unexpected response.
The sound that came out of Andreas was wholly primal, unquestionably angry and matched with fire sparking in his green gaze. He was across the room so fast, she had no time to prepare, before he swept her up into his arms, and yet she felt not a single frisson of fear as he carried her into his bedroom.
He stood beside the giant California-king bed for several tense seconds, his jaw hewn from granite. “You did not buy the lingerie for the actor.”
“Are you so sure?” She hadn’t, but she could have.
She could have bought any manner of lingerie for any number of men in the past six years, and it was just registering with her how much that would have bothered Andreas. Irrational, much?
“What? Do you expect me to live celibate while you are out shopping for your perfect bride?” she demanded.
“No.” He laid her on his bed, yanking the royal blue down duvet back as he did so in a truly impressive feat of coordination. He trailed his forefinger along the waistband of her panties. “So pretty. Not bought yesterday.” Only there was this expression in his eyes that said just maybe he wasn’t as certain as his tone implied.
“I’ve had this set for more than a year, Andreas. You’re the only man who’s ever seen them.” She grabbed his hand and laid it right over her silk-covered mound. “The only one who has ever touched them.”
“Good.” Possessive satisfaction flared in his green gaze, his hand pressing down and sending a thrill of desire and need through her. “I like knowing that more than I can say.”
More than he should say, that was for sure. “You haven’t been celibate for the past six years.”
“Neither have you.”
She didn’t answer. She might as well have been.
One fingertip slipped under the leg band of her panties and brushed ever so gently over her most intimate flesh. “I’ve been too damned busy building our company to sleep with as many women as the tabloids claim, Kayla, you know this.”
She turned away from his too intense look, dipping her head in acknowledgment. So, he hadn’t slept through half the Portland population of beautiful women, but that didn’t make her feel any better about the ones he had taken to his bed.
He pressed between her nether lips, caressing slick flesh and performing a gentle whorl on her clitoris, evoking sensations both deep and intense through the core of her. “Hey, pethi mou. It is you here with me now. It is me here with you. That is what matters.”
She met his emerald gaze, her heart beating so fast, she could feel it in her throat, her breath coming out in short pants. “Is it?”
“It is.” He kissed her, his lips molding to hers with perfect pressure, cutting off words and thoughts.
Somehow, she lost the last piece of disputed lingerie. His briefs disappeared, as well. Both at Andreas’s hands because Kayla was too busy touching skin, kissing lips and trying to press her body up into his. His big, hard sex rubbed against her hip as he drew pleasure from her body in ways it hadn’t experienced in six long years.
Whether it was the fact she was older and her body had changed or that she had gone all that time without knowing the fullness of these feelings, everything was stronger than she remembered. Everywhere his naked body touched hers sent pure jolts of electric ecstasy directly to her core. Her nipples rubbed against the hair on his chiseled chest and it made her wetter, hotter, needier than she’d ever been.
Seconds melted into minutes and Kayla ached with the need to have Andreas inside her.
“Tell me you’re clean,” she demanded with one of her few remaining lucid thoughts.
He shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “What?” he demanded, his voice husky and gruff.
“You’re clean. Tell me.” He’d always been careful. That wouldn’t have changed in six years, not with women who meant nothing to him.
He stared down at her like he was still processing her words, but then his expression cleared. “You know I take care of myself. I have the results of my last tests on my phone.”
“Me too.” They needed to stop. So she could see his, show him hers.
She’d never had sex without that safety check. Not even the first time with Andreas.
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