Wild And Wicked

Although as Jesse stared deep into her eyes and trailed his fingers lightly down the valley between her breasts, Kyra wondered if she’d ever be able to pry this man from her fantasies.

His voice growled husky and deep in her ear. “Are we agreed then?”

She blinked, fought for a rational thought even as the magic of his hands lured her deeper into a world of pure sensation. “Agreed on what?”

“My freedom for your pleasure?” His touch hovered close to one scarcely covered nipple. So close. His breath huffed warm against her shoulder as he staked his terms for sensual negotiation.

And she couldn’t have bargained for a better deal to save her life. Insistent hormones and liquid joy crept through her veins and made her amenable to anything—everything—he wanted.

“Deal.”

The moment the word left her lips, her unspoken wish was granted. Jesse’s fingertips smoothed over the aching tips of her breasts through the thin cotton, then plucked the sensitive crests until she shivered with wanting.

Hungry for more, she wriggled closer to him on the bed, desperate to experience the press of his chest against her bared skin. With eager, clumsy fingers, she tugged his shirt up to the middle of his chest and laid claim to his heated skin with her palms. Greedily, she absorbed the nuances of his body with her hands, mentally reconciling the muscles she’d stared at for years with the ridges and angles underneath her touch.

He felt hot and hard and better than she’d ever imagined. But if she wasn’t careful, Kyra knew she’d find pleasure with him far too soon, long before she’d had a chance to tease and tantalize him.

Forcing herself to slow down, she stilled her fingers and looked up at him to find his eyes glittering with the same heat that fired through her.

But before she could celebrate that small victory, Jesse covered her with his body, cradled her cheek in his hand and caressed her mouth with his own.

SHE TASTED LIKE honeysuckle—warm, sweet and heady. Jesse was drowning in her already and he’d only just barely touched his lips to hers.

Everything about this encounter had “mistake” written all over it, but he couldn’t have stopped himself now if he tried. The hell of it was, even if he could have scavenged some last remnant of control, his sensible best friend had turned into an exotic temptress and she urged him on at every turn.

Her hands fluttered restlessly at his shoulders, delicately steering him where she wanted him. Her calf wrapped around the back of his to mold him more tightly to her, demonstrating a strength he hadn’t suspected in her slight form.

He deepened the kiss, claiming her mouth for his own even as he reminded himself to be gentle. He didn’t have a clue how he’d walk away from her, as if she was any other woman, tonight after he showered her with earthly delights.

But he would. He had to.

He’d never allowed any woman to get under his skin before and Kyra was more dangerous than most because he cared about her.

Already he was taken by surprise to realize how much her satisfaction meant to him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to be roped into this ill-advised escapade, but now that they lay so close to one another in her monstrous four-poster bed, Jesse wanted nothing so much as to make tonight one she’d never forget.

Breaking the kiss, Jesse brushed his lips across her silky soft skin, over her cheek and down to the throbbing hollow of her neck. He’d known her for half a lifetime, yet everything about her was new and different tonight.

He’d noted in the past that Kyra was passionate about anything and everything she’d ever done—a quality he’d always admired because it was so foreign from his own love ’em and leave ’em approach. But now, having all that passion turned on him scared him to the roots of his too-long hair. Her fingers had found their way under his shirt, crawled across his chest and clutched him to her until he had no choice but to feel every square inch of her perfect breasts pressed up against him, the thin layer of cotton between proving no barrier at all. Still, he couldn’t resist plunging both hands into the loosened remains of her leather corset and unbuttoning the tiny fastenings on that blouse.

Gently, he nudged the fabric aside. Exposed her all the more to his gaze.

The sensation of seeing her breasts bared to him seemed incredibly decadent, yet forbidden because Kyra was his friend. But it was all so damned awesome he wanted to kneel before her gorgeous body and worship her in ways no other man had ever dreamed of.

“Kyra.” Whispering her name in the darkness, Jesse wondered if he’d ever be able to speak it again without getting turned on. “Lay still for me so I can look at you.”

Her blue eyes glittered back at him in the near darkness that had settled over her bedroom. Her restless hands slid away from his chest to fist at her sides. “I’m not good at being still.”

She wriggled against the simple lace bedspread as if to prove the point. Fleetingly, Jesse remembered how difficult it had been for her growing up with her father when he was in a depressive state. A high-energy teenager and a tired old man who only wanted to retreat from life had been a challenging combination on both sides.

“But I’ve never gotten to see you this way before.” He pinned her wrists on either side of her head, levering himself above her in a half-hearted push-up. “And who knows when I’ll ever get another shot at seeing you naked. I plan to look my fill.”

A slight breeze slid through the blinds at the window, rustling the starched curtains alongside her bed and stirring a lock of her hair to blow against his arm. She’d wrapped herself around all his senses just as thoroughly as those long blond strands conformed to his bicep.

Tonight she looked so soft and fragile. Intellectually, he knew her petite body concealed kick-butt strength and behind her delicate features lurked a sharp wit and clever mind.

Still, Jesse couldn’t resist tracing her perfectly crafted cheekbones with his lips. Couldn’t stop himself from skimming the smooth skin at her temple with the edge of his jaw.

“I don’t think it’s fair you get a sneak preview while I’m still left wondering what’s in store for me.” Her gaze dipped downward to linger on his…shorts. “Don’t you think I ought to be entitled to a little show-and-tell here too?”

As if in a quest to be seen, his Johnson reacted of its own accord. She was killing him already and she hadn’t even touched him yet.

He swallowed. Gulped. Sought for an even delivery of his words but still ended up sounding as strangled and hoarse as the Godfather in his old age. “I think you ought to behave before I have to get rough with you.”

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