Desperate Girls (Wolfe Security #1)(62)

Including her.

He stared down at her, and the intensity in his eyes made her pulse pick up. He looked edgy. Not nearly as calm as he’d been any of the other nights when they’d stood in this same kitchen.

She dropped her gaze to his broad chest and folded arms. She noticed the angry red scratch peeking out from his sleeve. Tracing her fingertip over his skin near the cut, she felt his body tense.

Just a few short hours ago, he’d been chasing a vicious killer who’d already left a trail of bodies in his wake. Erik had gone after him, without regard for the danger to himself and all the things that could have gone horribly wrong.

She glanced up at him. “You never told me what happened.”

“Scratched it on some fencing.”

“May I?” Without waiting for an answer, she lifted his sleeve to examine the cut. It was long but shallow, and she slowly ran her finger down the taut skin of his shoulder where the cut started.

His hand settled on her hip, drawing her closer, and Brynn’s heart started to thrum.

She looked up at him. “What?”

He kissed her.

It was soft at first but quickly grew deep and hungry, and she felt a wave of relief that that last searing kiss hadn’t been a one-off, because she’d convinced herself that maybe it was, that maybe she’d built it up too much in her mind.

But she hadn’t built up anything. He really kissed this way, like he couldn’t get enough of her.

Brynn slid her hands behind his neck and pulled him closer. She loved the way he held her. The way he took control. He shifted her so she was backed against the counter, and excitement shuddered through her.

He gripped her around her waist and lifted her onto the granite, and she gave a startled gasp as she clutched his neck. Their gazes locked. They were at eye level now, and she saw that intent look on his face again.

He slid his hands under her silky top, and she twined her legs around him, pulling him close. He bent forward to go after her neck.

“You taste good.” His breath was hot against her throat, and lust shot through her as his fingers traced over her nipple. He pushed the fabric up and bent down, and the warm pull of his mouth made her moan softly.

He stopped what he was doing to look at her. “If you want me to leave you alone, tell me now.”

She tightened her legs around him. “Don’t you dare leave me alone.”

Heat simmered in his eyes. He kissed her mouth again, dipping his hands below the waist of her pants. He lifted her up and slid them off her legs, setting her down on the cool granite. She watched the desire in his eyes as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close to kiss him. His hands slid over her bare thighs, and she ran her fingers through his hair, as she’d wanted to do since she’d first met him. She felt giddy finally getting her chance. She loved the way he tasted, the way he kissed her, the way his capable hands moved over her skin. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and she tipped her head back to enjoy it.

His guard was down. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but he was acting on all those pent-up urges she’d seen in his eyes since their first meeting. She soaked it all in—the heat, the anticipation, the rasp of his stubble against her tender skin. Everything he was doing made her feel drunk and needy.

“Brynn?”

“Hmm?”

“Hold on to me.”

She clutched the back of his neck as he lifted her off the counter and walked her out of the kitchen. She buried her face against his shoulder, squeaking as they passed through the foyer.

“What?” he asked gruffly.

“I hope Hayes doesn’t walk in.”

“He’s watching the cameras.”

He carried her into her room, kicked the door shut, and lowered her onto the bed, and her heart lurched at the sight of his tall, broad-shouldered silhouette against the faint glow from the bathroom. Her room was dim, but she had no trouble seeing the determined look on his face, and she felt a rush of excitement to have him here alone.

He watched her as he unbuckled his belt. He took off his holster and put it on the nightstand, then reached into his back pocket and added his wallet to the pile of leather and metal.

He rested a knee between her legs, and the mattress creaked under his weight as he leaned over her.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispered.

Heat sparked in his eyes, and she felt another rush of anticipation.

“Good to know.”

He kissed her as he parted her legs and settled his weight on her, and every nerve in her body seemed to fire to life. Everything about him was intoxicating—his mouth and his hands and the musky scent of his skin—and she felt wonderfully dizzy as he kissed her and pressed himself against her core.

Sliding her fingers under his shirt, she felt the smooth muscles of his back. His hand glided up her thigh, and she arched against him.

He pulled back, resting his weight on his elbow as he gazed down at her, his look unreadable. Was he having doubts? Now?

She pulled him down to kiss her, wrapping her legs around him again. She combed her fingers through his short hair, and his tongue tangled with hers as he moved against her, making her entire body ache and throb until all she could feel was a blinding need. She reached her hand between them and unsnapped his jeans. She got his zipper down and pushed at his clothes, but he caught her hand.

“Just wait.”