Blue-Eyed Devil (Travis Family #2)(52)

I stopped with a gasp as he grabbed me. a wild feeling pumped through me, a mixture of fear and anger and, unbelievably, arousal.

"Wrong," he bit out, his accent heavy and charred with scorn. "I'm not that complicated, Haven. The truth is, I've wanted you ever since I met you in that damned wine cellar. Because I got a bigger charge out of that five minutes than I have with any woman before or since. No secret plot against your family, Haven. No hidden agendas. Plain and simple, I'm just interested in screwing your brains out."

My face was stiff with offended bewilderment. Before I could string a few coherent syllables together, Hardy kissed me. I pushed at him, and his mouth lifted, and he muttered something that sounded obscene, but I couldn't quite hear it over the rampaging pulse in my ears.

He took my head in both his hands, fingers shaping around my skull. His lips found mine again. The taste and heat of him were unbearably sweet as his tongue sank into my mouth. The pleasure of it went screaming through me, hunger striking against equal hunger, creating fire. I opened to him, shaking so hard I could barely stand. His arm went around me, shielding my back from the cold press of concrete, the other hand running down the front of my body. I kissed him back, licking into his mouth the way he was doing with mine. I was feeling too much, losing control.

His mouth broke from mine, roughly searching the side of my neck. The rasp of his shaven jaw sent bolts of delight down to my stomach. I heard him mutter something to the effect that after going to a fancy college I should at least be smart enough to know when a man wanted to go to bed with me. Except that he said it a lot more crudely.

"I'm not a gentleman," he went on, gripping my body, his breath hot on my skin. "I can't get you into bed with fancy words or nice manners. All I can tell you is that I want you more than I've ever wanted a woman. I'd break any law to have you. If you'd gone with me that night we met, I would have taken you to Galveston and kept you there for a week. And I'd have made sure you never wanted to leave."

As the arm behind me tightened to arch my torso upward, I realized he'd pulled at the side of the dress until my breast was bare. He cupped the shallow weight, his thumb prodding the tip until it was tight and rosy, and then he bent to touch it with his tongue. I lifted, gasping, as he kissed the erect nipple, sealing his mouth over the taut flesh. He tugged rhythmically, sending washes of pleasure through me, licking between each soft pull. I held his head to me, tears stinging the corners of my eyes because it felt so good.

He moved upward and fastened his mouth to mine again, the kiss rich and drugging. "Let me into your bed," he muttered. "I'll give it to you any way you want it . . . long, slow, hard, easy . . . Hell, I'll even try to do it like a gentleman, if that's what gets you off. You think I want you because you're a Travis? I wish you were anyone but a f**king Travis. Your kind of people have looked down on me my whole life."

"I've never looked down on you," I snapped, shaking with frustration and desire. "If you knew anything about me, you'd never think that."

"Then what's the problem?" he growled. "Your ex-husband? You still got feelings for him?"

"No." My hands worked at the folds of his lapel, fingers clenching on the sleek fabric.

"Tell me you don't want me. Tell me, and I'll leave you the hell alone."

"I'm not good at this," I burst out. "My God, isn't that obvious?"

Nick is the only one I've ever slept with. I can't be casual about this."

I had never meant to admit that. But I was helpless, broken open, afraid I couldn't stand to be hurt the way Hardy was going to hurt me. Sex and pain and fear were all mixed up in my head.

Hardy went still. In one blistering moment, everything changed. He forced my face upward, his hand cupping the back of my head. His eyes were blue even in the darkness as he stared at me. Slowly his grip gentled, turning protective, his free hand stroking the goose-flesh on my upper arm. I realized he was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him that I might be too inexperienced to know how to play the game.

"Haven . . . " The new softness in his voice made my trembling even worse. "I didn't know. I thought — "

"That I'm a spoiled River Oaks brat? A snob — "

"Hush."

"But I — "

"Hush."

I fell silent and let him hold me. I was swallowed up in his embrace, clasped against that hard chest. Part of me wanted to escape. The other part of me craved this, being held, being touched. He stroked my hair, fingertips moving gently over the curve of my scalp. I felt something giving way, some inner tightness dissolving.

We swayed a little as we stood together, as if sensation were an ocean current pushing against us. Hardy nuzzled into my neck. I twisted to find his mouth, and he gave me what I wanted, kissing me with slow hunger until I was weak and dizzy. His arm was strong around me, cradling and supportive. With his free hand, he clenched his fingers into the loose folds of my dress, easing the knit fabric upward.

I jumped as his hand clasped my bare hip. He kissed my throat and said things I only half heard, endearments, reassurance, soothing me while he parted my thighs. He touched me, opening tenderly, one fingertip moving over layered flesh in teasing circles, smaller and smaller until he reached the center. I writhed helplessly as he caressed that one pulsing spot, over and over, and every time the callus on his finger crossed the wet surface of my clit, a pleasure-cry rose in my throat.