Walk on the Wild Side by Natalie Anderson

aren’t part of my plan.’
    â€˜No,’ she muttered.
    â€˜We have to stop.’
    â€˜Mmm…’ Her hands skated across his chest.
    He grabbed them between his, holding them firm. ‘Not helping, Kelsi.’
    But he couldn’t not kiss her. Not when she looked as disappointed as he felt. He liked ultraphysical sex—pushing it hard. Full-on and frantic, leaving him and his lover both too exhausted to move. Like everything he did, he liked it to extremes. He’d thought the beach had been his most extreme experience ever. He’d thought he wouldn’t be able to get hard again for at least twelve hours. But here he was filled and ready to fire not much more than fifteen minutes later.
    He swore hard in his head while his mouth ravaged hers. Burning up for this surprisingly fit woman who seemed to still be as hungry as he—who’d just given him the most sensational sex of his life. But he made himself ease it back, slow it down so their kisses soothed rather than stirred.
    Yet even those gentle touches were an indulgence he couldn’t give up. Not when she nipped and then suckled on his lower lip like that, not when her small fingers tugged at his hair so he’d bring his head closer again.
    Yeah, kissing her was irresistible. And the idea of being inside her again became imperative. He could take her back to his hotel and they could spend the night together. She made him feel invincible, filled with unending energy. Raw sexual attraction—and a compatibility that astounded him given their physical disparity.
    She had colour now—pretty pink rose petals bloomed in her cheeks. So much nicer than the pallor when she’d come flying out of the car to see if she’d killed him. The fresh air suited her; so did the kissed senseless look.
    But when he lifted his head to look at her beautiful body, he realised the light was darkening. He looked to the sky—heavy clouds had rolled across and were droppinglower with every second. Canterbury was famed for providing four seasons in one day and it seemed the weather had gone from summer to winter in minutes. The wind lifted, no longer the crazy warm breeze but a cold, threatening blast. And despite the way he ran his hands over her, he could see the goose bumps peppering her upper arms. They had to go. But he didn’t want to destroy this moment.
    â€˜We need to get back to town,’ he said, sounding harsh with frustration. ‘It’s going to rain.’
    The disappointment darkened her eyes even more and he saw then just how tired she was. So he kissed her again, his hands gently rubbing her upper arms, slowly and lightly. Then he told her, ‘I’m driving back.’
    He saw her hesitation, just knew she was going to argue, so he kissed her again until she was lax and he could feel her soft drowsiness. He repeated his intention and smiled as she muttered OK.
    Ten minutes into the drive she’d twisted sideways in the seat and gone to sleep—smiling. She looked so sweet. So vulnerable. And so not his type. Jack looked back to the road as he felt the big fat oops hit him.
    Despite her sophisticated surface there was a sensitive depth there. He’d seen it in her terror after the accident, he’d just forgotten it when she’d turned sex kitten on him on the sand. And frankly he’d been too hot for her to be able to stop anyway. He’d wanted, and he’d got—just like always.
    But she was a softy, wasn’t she? And that soft side was only going to get scrunched if she hung out with him any more than another five minutes. He liked fun with women who were as strong as he—who could handle physical challenge without emotional entanglements. She’d hardly been able to handle a near-miss car prang. Hell, she’d probablystill been in shock after the accident and he’d just taken total advantage of her. He felt really bad now. He couldn’t spend the