Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)(48)

“Do you have to be so clinical about it?”

He shrugged. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding. I lead a chaotic life, and a long-term commitment with any woman isn’t possible.”

When it came to romance, the man was definitely lacking finesse. But then what did she know? The only romance she’d observed was on television. “Okay, no misunderstandings, no complications, no commitments. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He sounded relieved, which she found a bit galling. Did he think she would demand marriage?

She put her arms around his neck again and rested her cheek against his chest. “Maybe we should put it in writing. Then you won’t have to worry.”

He hid his smile and said, “Yeah, we should put it in writing.”

“And get it notarized.”

He laughed. “Are you making fun of me?” He squeezed her backside. “I just want to be clear on expectations.”

“Did you go through these expectations of yours with the other women you’ve taken to bed? I’m assuming there have been one or two.” It was odd that she didn’t like the idea of Liam with any other woman. She shouldn’t care, should she? Yet she did.

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, I’ve never gone through them with any other woman.”

She leaned back so she could look into his eyes. “Why not?” she asked, clearly disgruntled.

“You’re different.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Neither,” he answered. “Just different.”

She sighed. “You sure know how to kill a mood. I think . . .”

She was going to tell him he might as well leave, but that thought got all tangled up in her mind the second his open mouth covered hers. The kiss was hard and blatantly possessive. Oh God, how she loved the way his tongue took possession, and she began the mating ritual, pressing her pelvis against his each time his tongue sank inside.

She was trembling when he lifted his head. They walked into the bedroom and stood at the foot of the bed facing each other as they undressed. While he removed his jacket and tie, she kicked off her heels, then turned around so that he could unzip her dress. She didn’t have to tell him what she wanted. She simply lifted her hair and waited.

Liam leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, smiling when he saw the goose bumps he caused. Then he lowered her zipper all the way down to the base of her spine. A night-light from the adjoining bathroom cast shadows on the bed and on her golden body. He marveled at how smooth and perfect her skin was.

Heart pounding, Allison slowly removed her dress, carefully folded it, and placed it on a nearby chair. She was deliberately taking her time, hoping she could get her nerves under control, but she quickly gave up and turned back to him.

Liam had to remind himself to breathe when he saw she was wearing lacy black lingerie. She was the sexiest woman he had ever known, and he had wanted her from the moment he had met her. Within seconds, he removed his gun and badge and put them on the bedside table. She tried to unbutton his shirt for him, but her hands were shaking so much, she couldn’t get it done. He took over the task, all the while his gaze locked on her.

The look on his face made Allison feel warm everywhere. She curled her toes into the rug and stared up at him. He really was beautiful, she thought, knowing he wouldn’t like it if she told him so. She put her hand on his chest and trailed her fingertips down to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m nervous,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied, smiling. She threaded her fingers though her hair and brushed it back in an action he found utterly feminine.

“I don’t understand why. I’m used to taking my clothes off in front of men.”

That statement got a reaction. He was in the process of unzipping his pants but stopped and said, “There’s no way in hell I’m going to believe you’re promiscuous.”

“What? No, of course not. But if I were?”

He shrugged, indicating that it didn’t matter to him. “I’d still want you.”

“I’m not,” she stated again.

“Okay. You like to take your clothes off . . .”

“In front of men,” she finished for him. “It’s what I do.” Now she was smiling, wondering how long it would take him to figure it out.

Had he not been so distracted by her killer body, he would have been more clearheaded and known right away what she was saying. When her meaning finally sank in, he laughed. “You’re a model.”

“Yes.”

He pulled her into his arms before she could get nervous again. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do,” he promised.

He was nuzzling the side of her neck, sending shivers through her. She tugged on his hair to get him to kiss her on the mouth. She was the aggressive one now. Her tongue swept inside and rubbed against his, and when she felt his arms tighten their grip, she knew he liked it, so she did it again. She wanted to make him lose control and suddenly realized she was losing hers.

Liam removed the rest of her clothes and then his own. His mouth never left hers, and she didn’t even realize what he’d done until her breasts were pressed against his chest. The feeling was exquisite. She felt the heat and the power radiating from his muscles. Her senses were reeling. Everything about him aroused her. The way he caressed her, the sexy growls he made when she pleased him, and his scent. Oh God, his scent was wonderful. It wasn’t aftershave, but maybe body wash and male. Clean and masculine. It was a sexy-as-sin combination and she loved it. When he tried to pull away from her, she retaliated by tugging on his lip with her teeth. She wanted to keep kissing him, and he gave her what she demanded.