Afraid to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli) - Page 72

“I was going to say ‘easily distracted.’ ”

His grin turned devilish as his eyes strayed to her neckline. “You know what, Selena, you’ve got that right.”

Before she could respond, he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her so close she almost fell over and kissed her, hard,

on the lips. She nearly fell directly on him, but somehow he stood, pulling her up against him, his mouth warm and encouraging, the hands upon her back making warm impressions through her sweater.

Don’t do this, her mind warned and she, involuntarily, molded her lips against his and opened her mouth when his tongue pressed against her teeth.

Desire, pulled from the deepest part of her, curled through her veins, heating her blood, causing her pulse to pound. She didn’t protest when he walked her backward, through the doorway, along a short hall to her bedroom, where the room was dark, the smell of her own perfume lingering. She felt his hardness, the thickening against the fly of his jeans, pressed deep into her abdomen as her own body responded, warmth invading the deepest part of her.

Selena, what are you thinking?

One of her grandmother’s favorite phrases sang through her mind: Astrasado mental!

Yes, she was being a moron, but she couldn’t help herself. It seemed so right to be in his arms again, to fall onto the bed and sink into the mattress with him, to know that as the snow fell outside, here, with O’Keefe, she would be warm, would be safe.

Closing her mind to all the insecurities, to all of the pain, to all of her doubts, she wrapped her arms around his neck and drank in the sweet, male scent of him.

His hands moved to the hem of her sweater and she didn’t resist, didn’t stop him, just let the feel of his fingers climb up her skin.

Her breasts filled, her blood pounded in her veins, her lungs had trouble drawing a breath as he kissed her and moved over her.

Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop!

The sounds of his breathing and her own heart beating shut out noises from the rest of the world. For now, it was only the two of them, locked away. She pulled his shirt from his jeans and closed her eyes, allowing sensation after sensation to roll through her.

His hands were calloused, a little rough as they rubbed against her. Her own were softer but anxious, her fingers tracing the lines in the muscles of his back. He moaned in the back of his throat and an answering sound came from her own lips. He skimmed her jeans down her hips and lower, past her ankles, while her fingers found the button at his waistband. She hesitated, and he placed a hand over hers, encouraging her.

She tugged.

A string of pops accompanied the opening of his fly and again he groaned into her ear, his tongue wet and hot, his breath fanning fires already burning bright within.

All doubts fled as he stripped her of her bra and panties, mere scraps that he tossed aside before touching her body in ways she’d never experienced, hadn’t allowed. Her mind wanted to wander down that dim corridor for a second but then he whispered her name and she was back, in her room, with the one man she’d almost loved.

His fingers touched her nipples, gently stroking, and she gasped. When he kissed her again, his lips lingering against her throat, she felt it, the palpitating, liquid heat fired by need. His lips grazed her nipple and she arched, her hips starting to move, a bloom of heat rising within, her skin suddenly damp with perspiration.

Her entire existence fell away and all that mattered was the pulsing need that pounded through her body. “Yes,” she whispered, though there had been no question, and when he took her breast in his mouth, his tongue laving her nipple, his teeth scraping against her skin, she only wanted more.

Lust, long at bay and wanton, thundered through her brain as he moved upon her, kneeing her legs apart, his body a strong, sinuous wedge. Her heart was thudding, her mind spinning in erotic images as he pressed against her.

“Selena?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Are you—”

“Please!” she cried and he complied, thrusting into her in one swift stroke that stopped the breath in her lungs. Her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders as he began to move, achingly slowly at first and then with more and more momentum. Faster and faster, his shallow, short breaths an echo of her own.

Heat built at the base of her neck, radiating as he kissed her, touched her, loved her until, in a soul-shattering moment, she let go, the room melting away, the ceiling seeming to fall away and bright night stars bursting in the heavens. A scream erupted from her throat and she held tight to him as rush after rush of pleasure caused her body to convulse.

“Oh, God,” she whispered fervently, her hair damp, the images in the room muted. “Dios ...”

He held her as if he’d never let go, her head cradled to his chest. She heard the wild rampage of his heart beating frantically in his chest, felt the sheen of perspiration on his skin and the strength of his arms around her.

As she finally caught her breath, she realized what had happened. Unbidden, tears filled her eyes. She bit her lip, not wanting him to know, but he felt the track of one salty drop as it drizzled down her cheek.

“Jesus, Selena, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh. It’s all right.” She sniffed then, blinking back tears and managing a smile. “I’m not sad. Just emotional.”

“Why?”

Tags: Lisa Jackson Mystery
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