Closer by Sarah Greyson Page A

him?
    “I am going to protect you,” he continued. “After we get the information we need, I will make a few phone calls to Homeland Security, and they can stop this cell in its tracks.” A logical plan, one her brain could follow. She liked that.
    “Go. Pack a bag. We will be gone a week max. Pack as light as you can. One bag, okay?” he asked. She started to go do as he bid, but before she could, he pulled her back down to him and moved his face quickly into hers.
    His lips were a hair’s breath away from hers when he whispered, “I promise on my life, nothing will happen to you. I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?
    She looked into his eyes and without a moment’s thought replied, “Yes.”
    He kissed her again tenderly. Taking his hand and wrapping it roughly in the back of her hair to tilt her face against his, he pulled her closer. With her lips parted, he took advantage and continued his exploration of her mouth. Their tongues met and danced a lover’s dance. They were both breathing heavy. She could feel her heartbeat pounding out a lover’s rhythm against her chest. She wrapped her hands around his neck and, although it was hardly possible, pulled him closer to her. Picking her up, he placed her on his lap. She smiled through their kiss. She would never grow tired of him tossing her around like she was light as a feather. She could feel how much he wanted her against her derriere. And her delectable ass did nothing but make his cock ache for release. Relinquishing her hair, he grabbed hold of her hips rocking them back and forth over his cock to try and get some satisfaction.
    How long could he wait to have her? She seemed willing enough. Still he did not want to rush her. Well, yes he did, he thought, but he wasn’t going to. After all, they both had a two-day drive ahead of them. He hesitatingly pulled back taking care to grind her hips into his bulging cock once more for good measure. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t going to.
    She stood up and reached out her hand. Placing his hand in hers and following her upstairs to the bedroom was hard for him because he knew he would not get any relief from his dripping erection. In the top of her closet she found her duffle bag, which she began filling with essentials. It was a good thing she never wore makeup she thought as she exited the bathroom with her toiletries. He sat on the corner of her unmade bed. Her limbs moved like a graceful ballet dancer and that enthralled him. Once again, he found himself imagining her body under his responding to his ministrations. The smell of lavender filled the room; it smelled like her. As if in a tense wartime situation, he had to take several deep breaths, holding them in the pit of his stomach before releasing his pent-up frustration into the air, effectively calming his mind. They had to get on the road.
    After she had finished packing her bag, a groan escaped her lips. She tried to quickly cover it with a cough, but it was too late, Michael heard her.
    “What’s wrong, Emma?” he asked.
    How could she answer that question? She didn’t want to leave the safety of her home when he was in it. She wanted him naked, on top of her. She didn’t want to drive two days to meet a terrorist. She didn’t want to talk to Homeland Security and risk jeopardizing her project that basically defined who she was. Her project meant everything to her; to risk it was unacceptable. Maybe it was just the situation, but he was mentally stimulating her and she was chemically attracted to him. She burned with longing to feel his hands on her bare body. Mostly, she didn’t want to leave his presence. After this was over, he would leave. Sure they would have sex, but he would leave and go back to his life before her. She couldn’t let her heart get involved. She needed to remain in her head.
    Determined, she got up. She put on pink socks and her brown Ugg boots. She had style that came naturally. She stepped into the bathroom and