creature running around this town wanting us both dead? Maybe a little heads up, next time, so you don’t scare the hell out of me?” I leaned my shoulders against the wall and realized my back was arching. Why was I not sleeping with him? Sometimes I couldn’t keep the reasons straight. Oh yeah, this week it was the perfume. I wasn’t sleeping with him because he was a flirt and he bought Mother perfume.
No, that wasn’t it. It would be a disappointment. That was the most current excuse. Or was that why I should sleep with him?
Nope, that wasn’t it, either. Now, I remembered. He’d crush my heart like a meat pulverizer.
While I was flipping back and forth between do or don’t quicker than they were serving up flapjacks down at the diner, he was getting closer to me, close enough that I could smell him, feel the heat he threw off and that other certain energy that was pouring off of him right now at levels not seen since Chernobyl.
If I didn’t move soon, I’d be in trouble…or ecstasy. He was close enough that he had to tilt his head downward to look me in the eyes. “Malokin won’t.”
“Won’t what?” My brain was getting fogged with Fate pheromones. He should bottle this stuff up and sell it. He could make a fortune, not that he needed it.
“He won’t give you a warning.”
My chest rose and fell with his words; they seemed to take on a different meaning. His eyes darted to the tops of my breasts above the towel and watched a drop of moisture drop from my hair to travel their surface. I had an image of his tongue licking it off. He moved another inch closer and I was torn between running or staying right there and dropping my towel.
Another inch. I should move. I should go into the other room and stop this; I should be running from him. I stood there as he moved yet another inch closer.
And another.
A palm landed on the wall on either side of my shoulders. He was everywhere but not touching me at all. I felt overwhelmed and longing at the same time. My back arched further, my body seeking the contact that my heart feared.
“How long are we going to play this game?” he asked, his eyes moving from my mouth and back again.
“What game?” Was he changing the rules on me? Did he want to talk? Warning bells were flaring as loud as a car alarm outside my door. Sleeping with him was one thing. In no way was I ready to talk about it, too. Oh no, that would be way too intimate. If I slept with him, I might still be able to pretend I wasn’t attached. If we talked, it would be out there and somehow real.
“We both want this.” A jolt shot through me as we made contact. His hips pressed against mine, letting me know exactly how much. His head tilted down to mine, closing the gap and I couldn’t or didn’t want to stop him. I couldn’t decide which and my brain wasn’t functioning on full steam. My libido had kicked it out of the wheelhouse.
His tongue brushed across my closed mouth as I tried to keep myself in check. His teeth nipped at my lower lip, pulling on it, teasing me, tempting me to play.
My lips parted on a moan, not able to reject the invitation and his tongue dipped inside and tangled with mine; trying to draw me into a kiss I was still attempting to fight. But I knew I’d lose. I didn’t have the will to resist completely.
His hand came up, cupped my cheek, his thumb under my chin. Tilting my head back slightly, his lips followed the line of my jaw working his way toward where it met my neck, only breaking to whisper, “Come on, I know you want it too. Why not have a little fun?”
I’d had fun with him before. Then watched his back as he walked away taking all the fun with him. Fun. That was all this was to him.
I stiffened.
So did he.
His head pulled back. “I don’t understand what the problem is.” His eyes were intent on mine. He really didn’t get it, and I wasn’t going to explain. It was bad enough without the words.
I would’ve stepped away but his
No, that wasn’t it. It would be a disappointment. That was the most current excuse. Or was that why I should sleep with him?
Nope, that wasn’t it, either. Now, I remembered. He’d crush my heart like a meat pulverizer.
While I was flipping back and forth between do or don’t quicker than they were serving up flapjacks down at the diner, he was getting closer to me, close enough that I could smell him, feel the heat he threw off and that other certain energy that was pouring off of him right now at levels not seen since Chernobyl.
If I didn’t move soon, I’d be in trouble…or ecstasy. He was close enough that he had to tilt his head downward to look me in the eyes. “Malokin won’t.”
“Won’t what?” My brain was getting fogged with Fate pheromones. He should bottle this stuff up and sell it. He could make a fortune, not that he needed it.
“He won’t give you a warning.”
My chest rose and fell with his words; they seemed to take on a different meaning. His eyes darted to the tops of my breasts above the towel and watched a drop of moisture drop from my hair to travel their surface. I had an image of his tongue licking it off. He moved another inch closer and I was torn between running or staying right there and dropping my towel.
Another inch. I should move. I should go into the other room and stop this; I should be running from him. I stood there as he moved yet another inch closer.
And another.
A palm landed on the wall on either side of my shoulders. He was everywhere but not touching me at all. I felt overwhelmed and longing at the same time. My back arched further, my body seeking the contact that my heart feared.
“How long are we going to play this game?” he asked, his eyes moving from my mouth and back again.
“What game?” Was he changing the rules on me? Did he want to talk? Warning bells were flaring as loud as a car alarm outside my door. Sleeping with him was one thing. In no way was I ready to talk about it, too. Oh no, that would be way too intimate. If I slept with him, I might still be able to pretend I wasn’t attached. If we talked, it would be out there and somehow real.
“We both want this.” A jolt shot through me as we made contact. His hips pressed against mine, letting me know exactly how much. His head tilted down to mine, closing the gap and I couldn’t or didn’t want to stop him. I couldn’t decide which and my brain wasn’t functioning on full steam. My libido had kicked it out of the wheelhouse.
His tongue brushed across my closed mouth as I tried to keep myself in check. His teeth nipped at my lower lip, pulling on it, teasing me, tempting me to play.
My lips parted on a moan, not able to reject the invitation and his tongue dipped inside and tangled with mine; trying to draw me into a kiss I was still attempting to fight. But I knew I’d lose. I didn’t have the will to resist completely.
His hand came up, cupped my cheek, his thumb under my chin. Tilting my head back slightly, his lips followed the line of my jaw working his way toward where it met my neck, only breaking to whisper, “Come on, I know you want it too. Why not have a little fun?”
I’d had fun with him before. Then watched his back as he walked away taking all the fun with him. Fun. That was all this was to him.
I stiffened.
So did he.
His head pulled back. “I don’t understand what the problem is.” His eyes were intent on mine. He really didn’t get it, and I wasn’t going to explain. It was bad enough without the words.
I would’ve stepped away but his
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