The Party Starts at Midnight - Page 19

He tutted and slowly shook his head. ‘There you go again, Abby, making me want to prove you wrong.’

‘So what are you waiting for?’

She lifted her chin and parted her lips and braced herself for the full force of him and the likely insides-melting impact it would have on her. But instead of going for her mouth, Leo put his hand on her jaw on one side of her face, and set his lips to the tiny spot beneath her ear on the other. It was the barest contact, a brush of air, a whisper, yet Abby gasped and trembled and, oh, dear, had that whimper been hers?

Apparently it had because she could feel his smile against her skin as he brushed his mouth against her jaw again, and she would have been prepared for the effect of it, only this time he didn’t stop. Instead he trailed his mouth along her jaw while she just stood there, very probably swaying, her eyes fluttering closed as she gave in to the glorious sensations sweeping through her.

He slid his hand round to the back of her head, pulling her closer, and when his mouth did eventually find hers Abby moaned, wound her arms around his neck and gave up any hope of trying to rationalise this because all she could do was feel. Feel the heat of his mouth, the skilful strokes of his tongue, the hard muscles of his neck beneath her hands and the softness of his hair between her fingers.

As their kiss deepened, heated, she couldn’t help arching her back to press herself closer, writhing against him a little and wishing she hadn’t been so fastidious about doing up the buttons of her coat.

A sentiment that he seemed to share, because a second later he was easing away from her a fraction and with the hand that wasn’t holding her head to his he deftly undid her buttons, parted her coat and then slid his arm round her back to pull her tight against him. And without the barrier of chunky wool she could feel the hard, thick length of his erection and nearly passed out with desire.

Leo moved his hand to her side, the edge of her breast, sending a shower of sparks cascading through her as he stroked her and suddenly kissing wasn’t enough. She wanted to taste him all over. Get him naked. Push him down and feast. And touch. God, she wanted to touch.

Unwinding her hands from around his neck, she slipped them down his chest to the waistband of his trousers. She tugged his shirt up and out, slid her hands beneath, running her fingers over the hard muscles of his abdomen and then round, planting them on his lower back and exploring. His skin was smooth and hot and she couldn’t get enough of it.

Until he wrenched his mouth from hers, breathing hard as he stared at her. ‘Do you want to come upstairs with me?’ he said hoarsely, his eyes blazing into hers with more heat and desire than she’d ever encountered.

Abby felt the room tilt as desire surged through her. ‘To take a look at your etchings?’

‘You’ve already seen my etchings.’

‘You’re right. I have.’

‘So?’

Absolutely not, said her head. You don’t do this sort of thing.

Definitely yes, said her body. You need to do this sort of thing.

And really there wasn’t even that much of a battle because she was way beyond thinking straight. All she could think was that, unlike her crappy ex, here was a man who wasn’t intimidated by her, here was a man who’d never accuse her of being too capable, and here was a man who could easily give her rock-bottom self-esteem the boost it needed.

The realisation blinded her, made her feel w

anted, desirable, powerful for the first time in months, and it was a heady, intoxicating mix. And utterly, utterly irresistible.

‘You know what?’ she said as logic, reason and sense threw up their hands in defeat and ran for cover. ‘I think I’d like to see some more.’

CHAPTER FIVE

HOWEVER DISORIENTATED AND dazed he’d been earlier, and however jet-lagged, Leo was clearly firing on all cylinders now because within a second of her agreement Abby found her bag being thrust at her, her hand being grabbed and herself being marched out of the room then led down a labyrinth of deserted corridors that took them to his private lift.

He jabbed at the button, his jaw tight, not looking at her, as if not trusting himself not to take her then and there if he did. But once the doors had closed, cocooning them inside, totally cut off from the outside world, he pulled her to him, the look he gave her so full of heat and desire it nearly wiped out her knees, and kissed her. And by the time they were zooming up to his apartment she couldn’t have said whether her ears were popping with the ascension or the dizzying effect of his mouth on hers.

Somewhere around perhaps the fourteenth floor he backed her up against the mirrored wall of the lift, pushed her dress up and then hitched her up. Supporting her weight with his upper body, he planted his hands at the backs of her thighs, lifted her legs and wrapped them round his waist.

Holding on tightly—although definitely not clinging—Abby caught sight of them in the mirrored wall opposite. Her coat flared around them, his big body hiding hers apart from her limbs entwined round him, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen anything quite so erotic. Quite so wanton. And if the lift doors hadn’t opened when they did she might not have been able to stop herself from begging him to take her right then and there.

As if she weighed nothing Leo carried her out and slammed her against the hall wall, making her drop her handbag and dislodging a picture, both of which landed with a soft thud on the floor.

Abby tore her mouth away from his, breathing hard as she looked at him. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, glazed with desire, and her stomach all but dissolved.

‘What’s the matter?’ he said hoarsely.

‘I think a Picasso just fell to the floor.’

‘I’m sure he’d understand,’ he said and resumed his assault on her jaw.

Tags: Lucy King Billionaire Romance
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