“W-what?”
“You heard exactly what I said.” His gaze honed in on her mouth and his eyes darkened. “A kiss. It’s not that complicated.”
Oh, it was definitely that complicated. “Not a chance.”
“Why?”
“Are you high? Because we’ve got a history—a pretty complex one where I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with you. And beyond that, I’m not for sale, dammit.”
Ian laughed. The sound so deep and sexy, she hated the way it heated her blood. “I’m not asking you to suck me off. Though I sure as hell wouldn’t protest if you tried. It’s just a kiss.”
The imagery. Oh, God, the imagery those words created. She shoved it aside, and sputtered, “You’re disgusting. You kiss your mother with those lips?”
“Not since she moved back to Scotland with Da. And the only kissing I’d like to focus on is between you and I.”
“It’s not going to happen.” When she stepped back, he followed her. A deliberate dance of seduction. Of intimidation.
“It will happen, Sarah, because I want it to and I’m certain you do too.”
“Arrogant much?” Her mouth went dry. “I was done with you the day I moved to
Japan.” Okay, that was a lie. She’d never forgotten him—it would be impossible to. And each suggestive little sentence he uttered was turning her body to liquid heat. Which pretty much made her think she needed to have her head examined. Any normal woman would’ve reacted by slapping that smug smile off his face.
“And that’s just the thing, doll. I wasn’t done with you.” His head dipped. “Not even close.”
And before she could fire back a response, not that she had one after his explosive admission, he muttered, “I’m collecting my payment.”
His mouth claimed hers.
Instinct demanded she fight him—push him away, but her mind reasoned that she could fight him another way. By not responding. By not giving him any indication that she still harbored any emotion except disdain to him.
But his kiss wasn’t hard—wasn’t aggressive. It was slow and sensual. Gentle even.
His mouth brushed over hers in a soft caress, again and again, before his tongue teased the seam of her pressed lips.
His shocking change of tactic tore down any walls she’d maneuvered between them. Emotions she’d thought long dormant stirred deep within her. Physical needs she hadn’t realized she could experience anymore came to the surface.
The combination of the two was a bit terrifying.
She wasn’t a twenty-eight-year-old woman anymore, but a seventeen-year-old with a stomach full of butterflies again.
The urge to part her lips, to kiss him back struck her with a ferocity that made her lightheaded.
She slid her hands up his chest, clinging to his shirt to keep herself upright. Though there was no real danger of falling, not with the way he’d backed her up against the door.
Ian lifted his head a tiny bit. “You always were so damn sweet. Open your mouth for me, Sarah. I’ve got to taste you.”
She shook her head. “Do you want me to stop?”
Again, she shook her head, couldn’t manage any reply except a small whimper. He used it. Once more his mouth took hers and his tongue slid past her parted lips. The moment his tongue touched hers the fight left her.
Just one more time, she bargained with herself. One more time to remember how good they’d once been.
About the Author
Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother’s bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn’t until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn’t make her crazy, they made her a writer.
Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She’s a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song.
Sign up for
“You heard exactly what I said.” His gaze honed in on her mouth and his eyes darkened. “A kiss. It’s not that complicated.”
Oh, it was definitely that complicated. “Not a chance.”
“Why?”
“Are you high? Because we’ve got a history—a pretty complex one where I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with you. And beyond that, I’m not for sale, dammit.”
Ian laughed. The sound so deep and sexy, she hated the way it heated her blood. “I’m not asking you to suck me off. Though I sure as hell wouldn’t protest if you tried. It’s just a kiss.”
The imagery. Oh, God, the imagery those words created. She shoved it aside, and sputtered, “You’re disgusting. You kiss your mother with those lips?”
“Not since she moved back to Scotland with Da. And the only kissing I’d like to focus on is between you and I.”
“It’s not going to happen.” When she stepped back, he followed her. A deliberate dance of seduction. Of intimidation.
“It will happen, Sarah, because I want it to and I’m certain you do too.”
“Arrogant much?” Her mouth went dry. “I was done with you the day I moved to
Japan.” Okay, that was a lie. She’d never forgotten him—it would be impossible to. And each suggestive little sentence he uttered was turning her body to liquid heat. Which pretty much made her think she needed to have her head examined. Any normal woman would’ve reacted by slapping that smug smile off his face.
“And that’s just the thing, doll. I wasn’t done with you.” His head dipped. “Not even close.”
And before she could fire back a response, not that she had one after his explosive admission, he muttered, “I’m collecting my payment.”
His mouth claimed hers.
Instinct demanded she fight him—push him away, but her mind reasoned that she could fight him another way. By not responding. By not giving him any indication that she still harbored any emotion except disdain to him.
But his kiss wasn’t hard—wasn’t aggressive. It was slow and sensual. Gentle even.
His mouth brushed over hers in a soft caress, again and again, before his tongue teased the seam of her pressed lips.
His shocking change of tactic tore down any walls she’d maneuvered between them. Emotions she’d thought long dormant stirred deep within her. Physical needs she hadn’t realized she could experience anymore came to the surface.
The combination of the two was a bit terrifying.
She wasn’t a twenty-eight-year-old woman anymore, but a seventeen-year-old with a stomach full of butterflies again.
The urge to part her lips, to kiss him back struck her with a ferocity that made her lightheaded.
She slid her hands up his chest, clinging to his shirt to keep herself upright. Though there was no real danger of falling, not with the way he’d backed her up against the door.
Ian lifted his head a tiny bit. “You always were so damn sweet. Open your mouth for me, Sarah. I’ve got to taste you.”
She shook her head. “Do you want me to stop?”
Again, she shook her head, couldn’t manage any reply except a small whimper. He used it. Once more his mouth took hers and his tongue slid past her parted lips. The moment his tongue touched hers the fight left her.
Just one more time, she bargained with herself. One more time to remember how good they’d once been.
About the Author
Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother’s bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn’t until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn’t make her crazy, they made her a writer.
Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She’s a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song.
Sign up for
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