on my dick. I might come in my jeans. I don’t think I’ve ever done
that.”
Her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive now,
the nipples pressing hard into her bra and the thin material of the top.
“Come on; let me see.” He smiled, so wicked, so erotic, as he brushed it against her lips.
“Let me see and remember, Chay. Just for a minute.”
She knew better. She had known better than to return to Somerset. The minute she did,
she knew exactly what Natches was going to do: He would destroy her with her own
desires.
Her lips parted.
A tight, erotic grimace contorted his lips as he stared down at her, at the toy within
touching distance of her lips, and sparks of anger filled his gaze.
The next second it was his tongue filling her mouth. His lips covering hers. She didn’t
know what he did with the toy; she didn’t care. He was kissing her again. He was
possessing her lips, eating at them, and she was eating back.
He always tasted so good, so dark and male. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her
fingers spearing into his hair as she felt him jerking her skirt over her thighs, his fingers
pressing her legs apart.
He was going to take her. She could feel it. She wasn’t going to escape this time. Last
year he had been kind, even for him, and let her go. This time, he wasn’t letting her go.
“Natches.” She breathed his name out in protest as he tore his lips from hers, pressed
kisses along her neck, moved to the heaving mounds of her breasts.
Her nipples ached for him. For his mouth, his tongue.
“I should spank you,” he growled. “Damn you, Chay. You knew better than to come back
here. I know you did.”
Yes, she had, and she’d had no choice but to return. But she would have anyway. She
knew she would have, because the fight to stay away from him had been too hard. It had
been more than she could bear.
One more assignment. Just this last operation and then—they would have time then. Not
now.
She shook her head as she arched to him. Now wasn’t the time. She couldn’t divide her
attention like this. She would end up getting killed.
His mouth buried between her breasts, his tongue licking, stroking as she moaned his
name. She needed. Just one more taste of him, then she would be strong.
“Damn you.” Suddenly, his head jerked up. “Why are you here, Chay?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t drawing him in to this. It wasn’t happening.
“Just questions,” she panted. “Follow-up. I have to follow up.”
She was going to have to do some heavy talking if he ever found out where those
questions would lead.
“Liar.” The accusation was soft, wickedly knowing. “You can’t lie to me, Chay.”
He pressed her legs apart with his and the toy; he still had that damned toy. He stroked it
over the damp cotton that shielded her from him.
“Let’s play a game,” he whispered. “I ask a question, you tell the truth, and I give you
something you’ll really like.”
“Kiss me, Natches.”
As he had once bragged, his kisses were potent.
He leaned forward, brushed his lips against hers.
“Scared?” he asked softly, his eyes knowing.
“Let me get drunk on you,” she urged. “Just kiss me.”
“Just kiss you?” The head of the toy pressed more firmly against her hungry core. “But,
Chay, you’re so wet and so wild beneath me. Let’s play my little game first.”
She arched and cried out as he pulled back.
“First question.” He licked over the top of a breast revealed by the material he nudged
lower with his chin. “Did DHS send you here?”
Okay, that one was easy.
“Yes,” she answered carefully.
A soft approving murmur against the curve of her breast and he was nudging the cup of
her bra lower to lick at her nipple. Heat sizzled in her veins and sent her hips thrusting,
grinding against the toy he held pressed to her panties.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Am I involved?”
Was he? She
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