The Closer He Gets - Page 67



He laughed again. “Feisty woman.”

“Am I?” She looked away from him. “Lately, I feel like all I do is cower and call you to rescue me.”

“You’re not a cop,” he said flatly. “I am. What are you going to do, buy a gun? Any idea how to use one? What if you shot someone who never had any intention of hurting you?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to buy a gun. I just don’t like feeling helpless.”

“I know you don’t.” His voice was suddenly, impossibly, gentle. He pushed his chair back from the table but didn’t rise. Instead he held out a hand to her. “Tess?” The gentleness remained but a new huskiness was there. “I say let’s throw out all the rules.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HE COULDN’T BELIEVE those words had come out of his mouth. That he’d just suggested they break the rules together. And yet...nothing on earth would have made him take them back.

Zach waited, his hand outstretched to Tess.

When she stood and started around the table, relief and something more powerful threw his heart into a new rhythm. Her approach was cautious, but he saw enough in her eyes to be sure she was as drawn to him as he was to her—and as worried about it. In his fear that she’d change her mind, he quit even breathing in an attempt to look as unthreatening as possible.

And then she took the last, hesitant step and laid her slim, cool hand in his. As air rushed into his lungs he tugged her forward. With a small cry, she dropped onto his lap, threw her free arm around his neck and pressed her mouth to his.

The kiss was clumsy, their noses bumped, he even tasted a hint of blood when his teeth scraped the inner flesh of his lip. But urgency rose in him as hot and fast as it had in her. He banded her with his arms and tilted his head to change the angle at which their mouths met. His tongue plunged deep, until he wrenched back enough control to stroke her tongue more deliberately, a sensual dance she met.

As they kissed, Tess’s back arched, pressing one breast against his chest, shifting her weight on his thighs until he had to grab her hips and reposition her to allow for his erection.

He’d never been so ready so fast. He squeezed her butt, wrapped her hip with his hand and kneaded, moved down her thigh then slid up. The heat and dampness he felt even through denim went to his head.

Even so, kissing her was enough for now, which would alarm him if he let it. But he loved her taste, her answering pleasure, the small sounds she made, too much to tear his mouth away. His lust was contained by an unfamiliar tenderness that heightened all his senses.

He suddenly realized they might not make it to a bed if he didn’t move now. For their first time, the kitchen table wasn’t right. With a groan, Zach lifted her and set her on her feet, shoved the chair back hard enough to make it rock, and stood.

“Bedroom,” he said hoarsely.

Her dazed look, showing incomprehension, went to his head, too. Or maybe not; his thinking had regressed to the primitive.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

Zach hustled her out of the kitchen and down the hall. He didn’t turn on the overhead light in her bedroom, only the lamp beside the bed. He unceremoniously yanked back the covers and then went to work on her clothes. He wanted desperately to see her.

She wriggled a little to help him peel her shirt over her head, exposing a simple, white cotton bra. Zach liked it. He’d never been a fan of satin and stiff lace and wires. He cupped both her breasts, squeezing gently, feeling her nipples peak beneath the cotton, watching her eyes dilate as she stared down at his hands on her.

Then, patience abruptly gone, he unhooked the bra and was working on the button and zipper of her jeans before it hit the floor.

He had to crouch in front of her to pull jeans and panties over her feet. The position was excruciating in one way, but in another... She was gorgeous, long-legged, long-waisted, the curve of her hips luscious.

Enthralled, he dropped to his knees and nuzzled the caramel-brown curls that stood out against the white sweep of her belly. He inhaled, breathing in her scent as if it was a distillation of her. He could get drunk on her, he thought. Maybe he already was.

Was this why he couldn’t resist her? Basic chemistry?

Tags: Janice Kay Johnson Billionaire Romance
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