Irresistibly Exotic Men. Laura Iding

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СКАЧАТЬ hers and whispered, “You want me to kiss you?”

      “Mmm.”

      Slowly, inch by aching inch, he covered her mouth with his.

      Luke De Rossi not only looked like a kissing master, he was hands down one of the best. Her breath merged with his, stirring a long-forgotten ache deep inside, flaring up to lick her body in need. It attacked the part of her mind that controlled rational thought, eating away at her reservations.

      He stroked his hands down her arms, creating shivering goose bumps in his wake.

      “You want me to stop?” he muttered against her mouth. “I will if you want me to.”

      She wanted to give in to him, so much that it made her chest ache. “I …”

      She wanted him. For the first time in her life she wanted to leap on in and damn the consequences, grab everything he offered—every no-strings-attached kiss, every blood-boiling caress.

      But that would mean giving something in return. Something she’d worked ten years to protect.

      With a groan, she snapped open her eyes. Luke continued his assault on her neck as she tried to pull back, gasping as his teeth nibbled at her flesh.

      Frantically, she pushed. “Stop.”

      He stumbled but regained his feet quickly. The arousal in his heavy eyes held a shot of confusion.

      “Beth—”

      “We shouldn’t …” She cleared her throat. “This isn’t professional. My life is good. I’m happy. I don’t want—” She swallowed thickly. “I don’t do casual sex.”

      “There’d be nothing casual about it.” His husky timbre sounded like a promise. It made her insides quiver.

      “No.” She hated the way her denial came out breathy, almost expectant. Anger at her weakness gave her voice more strength when she said, “No. We’re in the middle of a crazy situation and I don’t need another distraction. Not now.”

      “Is that all this would be—a distraction?”

      “Yes.” She glanced away, wrapping her arms around her waist. She could still feel his heat, still smell his scent on her clothes. She still wanted his mouth on hers.

      When he didn’t respond, she chanced a look.

      He was shaking his head, a frown creasing his brow.

      Her restraint faltered and she let out a breath. “Look,” she said, shoving a loose lock of hair back behind her ears with an efficient sweep. “What we’ve got is a basic physiological reaction to a stressful situation. It heightens senses and emotions.” She smiled tightly. “When there’s a sense of danger, the body’s response is to procreate.”

      “Really.”

      Beth shrugged. “Hey, it’s physiology.”

      Luke studied her intently, but she just stood there, a firm smile on those lips he’d been devouring not twenty seconds ago. Hell, he ached for her like he’d been celibate for five years and not just three months. So it had to be something.

      He ran a hand through his hair, wishing it were hers.

      “So, no more kissing,” he said.

      “Right.” Beth nodded.

      “Yes.”

      “Mmm.”

      Luke watched her gather up the oils and refold the table as if she were performing groundbreaking brain surgery. She wasn’t bothering to deny their attraction anymore and that should’ve pleased him. But it didn’t. Far from it.

      He might have been fooled into thinking she delivered mind-numbing kisses often, ones that chewed up a guy’s insides and sent his heart racing. Until he caught a vague look of disappointment as she turned away. Sure, she could rationalize it all she wanted, but Luke knew the truth.

      He wanted her. And she wanted him right back.

      Beth Jones was unlike anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t disguise the fact that she wanted him out of her life. Yet she was physically attracted, an attraction they both sensed every time he got within arm’s length. When every other woman would have told him loud and clear how they felt, she hid it behind a biology lesson. Her blatant denial intrigued him.

      Yeah, but you’ve gotta think with your head, Luke. Your career is everything, always has been. And that’s the way you like it. Face it—you’re a disaster when it comes to relationships.

      And he didn’t want to hurt Beth.

      “I’m going to take a shower,” Luke finally said.

      She remained silent until he raised one questioning eyebrow.

      “Towels are in the cupboard above the sink.”

      He took the stairs two at a time and Beth managed to keep her composure. But when he disappeared into the bathroom, she collapsed into the couch with a mutter of dismay.

      His skin, the play of his muscles beneath her fingers, had been better than she imagined. A scar in the shape of a circular constellation marred the perfection, along with another silver slash of puckered skin low on his waist. She’d bitten her lip to stop from leaning down and gently kissing away the massage oil.

      Beth heard the shower turn on … and an image swam into her mind of Luke naked, water running over his chest, abdomen …

      Stop it. Stop it now.

      With a grievous sigh, she stood and headed off to the kitchen, unsure and unsettled.

      Much later that night, after she’d eaten a quick chicken sandwich alone in the kitchen, Beth ran herself a bath and sank into the warm bubbles with a relieved groan.

      Behind her head, scented candles flickered on a small shelf, their reflection bouncing from the huge, gold-edged mirror opposite and ending in a subtle play of light on the water’s surface.

      The bathroom was her thinking space and she loved it best of all—from the high whitewashed ceiling, the Grecian tiles framing the doorway, the hanging green plants, to the skylight that showed off a clear starry night.

      It should have been a haven tonight. But escape was impossible. The house was still and quiet, but an underlying anticipation hung in the air, as if it was waiting to see what changes the newcomer would bring.

      Luke dwarfed her spare room, just as he was dwarfing her life, helping himself to a part of it as if she was an amicable participant. She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with steam and scent, and exhaled in a rush.

      Luke had to know how out of place he was here, how much he disrupted her sense of order. She’d told him straight what she wanted. Now she had to persuade. She’d show him she belonged here, that her stamp was firmly on this place, in every book, every cup, every comfy cushion. It was her task to convince him, so when he went back to work, he’d soon forget whatever attraction this place held and take her СКАЧАТЬ