“Ah, poupée , you present a temptation too strong for this mortal man to resist.”
His words made her blood surge in her veins and hot wetness flood her inner thighs.
She’d never been an irresistible temptation to anyone. And the prospect that she was to him made her feel powerful despite the cuffs holding her captive.
She felt fingers against the sensitive skin of her inner knee and nearly came up off the bed, the jolt of electricity to her tender areas so intense she was sure he had set fire to her limbs. The hem of her slip slid up and she felt the humid air on her exposed underpants. She held his probing gaze, almost challenging him to take things further. Daring him.
She watched his gaze take her in from hair to bare toes, lingering on her crotch and her breasts where they strained against the material of her bra and slip.
“You’re playing a very, very dangerous game, ma catin .”
Akela restlessly moistened her lips. “No more dangerous than the one you started when you took me captive.”
His gaze flicked to hers where it stayed for a long heartbeat, touching her as thoroughly as any caress. “Ah, yes. Only I’m beginning to wonder who’s keeping whom captive now.”
She tugged on her wrist. “Release me and find out.”
7
C LAUDE REALIZED he’d have to reassess his belief that beautiful FBI agent Akela Brooks was a woman not given to impulsive acts.
His gaze slid from the soft swell of her breasts, down to where the silky material of her slip skimmed her plain white panties, doing little to disguise the springy wedge of dark curls just beneath. A light sheen of sweat covered her supple skin and her chest rose and fell laboriously.
Another man might have viewed her suggestive request for freedom as a ploy toward escape. But if there was one thing Claude was an expert on, it was recognizing sexual need, and Akela’s softly spoken challenge had nothing to do with finding a way out of the cabin and the bayou, and everything to do with showing him exactly what she promised.
Only Claude couldn’t give in to the urge to unlock her cuffs, no matter how much he wanted to.His legal position was too shaky right now. His avenues to clear himself were limited to the woman who was now looking up at him as if she wanted nothing more than to be kissed senseless.
But no matter how precarious his situation, and how vital his need to convince her of his innocence, he knew that’s exactly what he was going to do.
Drawing his fingers up her hip and over her side, at her quick intake of breath, he pressed his mouth against hers. And he was rewarded with her arching up toward him, her cuffs clanking, her body hot and supple.
His mama had been fond of saying that her brand of Cajun cooking could put the heat in anyone’s veins. That the hot spices didn’t just tease the tongue, they wove their way through the bloodstream, making the person restless and yearning for an unnamable something.
Of course, Olivie Lafitte also said that excusing yourself for bad behavior was inexcusable.
Claude felt Akela’s finger at the side of his neck, then her touch trailed down over his bare arm to his chest. She pressed her damp palm against his flat nipple, her eyes fluttering slightly open to watch his response to her bold move. Normally it would have taken a whole helluva lot more than atouch north of the snap on his jeans to do it for him. But her tentative touch and the warm quicksilver of her eyes combined to make him feel as if he’d been sucker punched.
And that, more than anything, should have warned him to be careful before pushing ahead. But he couldn’t seem to help himself, could no sooner stop what was happening between them than he could the beating of his own heart.
He kissed her as his palm slid down the fluid material of her slip. The heel of his hand hesitated against her pelvis. And she bucked against his touch like a woman gone mad with desire.
Dear Lord…
She rolled over on top of him, her
His words made her blood surge in her veins and hot wetness flood her inner thighs.
She’d never been an irresistible temptation to anyone. And the prospect that she was to him made her feel powerful despite the cuffs holding her captive.
She felt fingers against the sensitive skin of her inner knee and nearly came up off the bed, the jolt of electricity to her tender areas so intense she was sure he had set fire to her limbs. The hem of her slip slid up and she felt the humid air on her exposed underpants. She held his probing gaze, almost challenging him to take things further. Daring him.
She watched his gaze take her in from hair to bare toes, lingering on her crotch and her breasts where they strained against the material of her bra and slip.
“You’re playing a very, very dangerous game, ma catin .”
Akela restlessly moistened her lips. “No more dangerous than the one you started when you took me captive.”
His gaze flicked to hers where it stayed for a long heartbeat, touching her as thoroughly as any caress. “Ah, yes. Only I’m beginning to wonder who’s keeping whom captive now.”
She tugged on her wrist. “Release me and find out.”
7
C LAUDE REALIZED he’d have to reassess his belief that beautiful FBI agent Akela Brooks was a woman not given to impulsive acts.
His gaze slid from the soft swell of her breasts, down to where the silky material of her slip skimmed her plain white panties, doing little to disguise the springy wedge of dark curls just beneath. A light sheen of sweat covered her supple skin and her chest rose and fell laboriously.
Another man might have viewed her suggestive request for freedom as a ploy toward escape. But if there was one thing Claude was an expert on, it was recognizing sexual need, and Akela’s softly spoken challenge had nothing to do with finding a way out of the cabin and the bayou, and everything to do with showing him exactly what she promised.
Only Claude couldn’t give in to the urge to unlock her cuffs, no matter how much he wanted to.His legal position was too shaky right now. His avenues to clear himself were limited to the woman who was now looking up at him as if she wanted nothing more than to be kissed senseless.
But no matter how precarious his situation, and how vital his need to convince her of his innocence, he knew that’s exactly what he was going to do.
Drawing his fingers up her hip and over her side, at her quick intake of breath, he pressed his mouth against hers. And he was rewarded with her arching up toward him, her cuffs clanking, her body hot and supple.
His mama had been fond of saying that her brand of Cajun cooking could put the heat in anyone’s veins. That the hot spices didn’t just tease the tongue, they wove their way through the bloodstream, making the person restless and yearning for an unnamable something.
Of course, Olivie Lafitte also said that excusing yourself for bad behavior was inexcusable.
Claude felt Akela’s finger at the side of his neck, then her touch trailed down over his bare arm to his chest. She pressed her damp palm against his flat nipple, her eyes fluttering slightly open to watch his response to her bold move. Normally it would have taken a whole helluva lot more than atouch north of the snap on his jeans to do it for him. But her tentative touch and the warm quicksilver of her eyes combined to make him feel as if he’d been sucker punched.
And that, more than anything, should have warned him to be careful before pushing ahead. But he couldn’t seem to help himself, could no sooner stop what was happening between them than he could the beating of his own heart.
He kissed her as his palm slid down the fluid material of her slip. The heel of his hand hesitated against her pelvis. And she bucked against his touch like a woman gone mad with desire.
Dear Lord…
She rolled over on top of him, her
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