Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(20)
His lips curving as if he saw right through her downcast eyes, he stood. When she was brave enough to lift her gaze, she noted his blue eyes had softened somewhat. Instead of the corny Cinderella reference she expected, he said, “You have lovely feet and legs. Why do you hide them in sensible footwear and those frumpy suits you wear?”
“I want people to pay attention to my acumen, not my looks.” Her flush fading, she looked down, mortified to see that her favorite robe was not only frayed, it was ripped at the last two button closures, so that her legs were bare almost to her hips. She moved to pull the robe closed, but she was sitting on the fabric. Finally, she just rose, twitched the robe closed, and, with her other hand, gave the pipe back to him. “You don’t really know me, nor do you, from what I can tell, feel inclined to a closer acquaintance. Which is fine by me. Just business.”
“Just business,” he echoed. He stuck the pipe back in his pants pocket, stretching the black jeans in a way she noticed and wished she hadn’t. He loomed so large in every way in the small room that she had to back away. Not because she was scared, but from the sheer impact of his presence. And deep inside, in a place she kept curtained away even from her own eyes, she knew they both lied. This man had the potential to be much more to her than just business. She was several steps away, but she could still smell his scent. His aftershave was faint and spicy, not too sweet, just like him. Direct, alluring because it didn’t bother to entice with hidden ingredients. It was what it was, take it or leave it.
Emm badly wanted to put his hands-off attitude to the test, but she knew she might as well play with dynamite. Safely, she backed away another step. Her hip brushed the small round table, knocking a folder and a card to the floor. He bent to pick them up for her before she could, a lock of hair flopping across his forehead.
This time, the temptation was too great. Before she could stop herself, she tenderly brushed his hair back into place. His eyes widened, delving deeply into hers. She jerked her hand back, or tried to, but it was too late. Catching her wrist to pull her close, he dropped the folder and card, papers flying, and jerked her into his arms. Then that finely shaped, stern mouth lowered over hers. Right before contact, the lines softened to the same rampant sensuality he incited in her.
All protest died at the first brush of his lips. The feel of his mouth was soft in a way she hadn’t expected, but the kiss itself was not. It was hard, needful and arrogant. It dared her to keep things businesslike, but subterfuge was beyond her. Instead of pulling away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to slant her mouth over his. To give to the nth degree as he demanded, but also to incite him to give back even more. This tempest had been building between them since he’d cuffed her on a desolate stretch of Texas road, and whether it buffeted her into a lonely place or not, she had to yield to the storm. She not only brushed her lips from side to side over his, she also took tiny nibbles from the corners of his mouth on each slide, caving in at last to all the forbidden emotions he made her feel.
She was rewarded with a tortured male groan and a tongue pushing past her teeth to learn her taste and texture. Normally, she didn’t like French kissing early on, but her reaction to this man had been anything but normal. She opened her mouth to his invasion, sighing her pleasure against his lips. He took the sweet sound like the gift it was, the kiss gentling to a deep, thorough caress. The very tip of his tongue explored the inside shape of her lips, the caress so gentle but so arousing that her heart literally skipped a beat. When he opened the robe that had loosened in their embrace, she was too far gone to care.
His own breathing ragged, he drew back to look at her. His eyes were closed at half mast, and they were so blue they looked incandescent as he traced a hand down across her silk teddy from the deep vee of her bosom to the beginning of the vee on her lower stomach. She did something else she’d never done with a man on the first kiss: She lay back against his other arm and let him look. No, she reveled in the passion flaring his nostrils, his quickened breathing, and the hard lump in his black jeans. If he’d lowered her to the bed, she wouldn’t have resisted him.
He took a deep, raggedy breath. For an instant, as if by sheer strength of will, he forced his hand to drop away before he touched her where she most needed it, but then he froze, his hand on the curve of her hip, staring down between her legs. And then he brushed between her thighs, spread to help support her weight as she leaned against him. One finger touched between her legs, high up. She went rigid, firecrackers where her nerve endings used to be; only when she saw a drip of pearly moisture on his fingertip did she realize how wet she really was. Holding her gaze, he brought the pearl to his nose, his nostrils flaring as he absorbed her scent. Then he licked it away, as if it were a delicacy to sustain him, body and soul.
The shocking intimacy of this moment with a man totally inappropriate for her finally galvanized her into motion. With a strangled gasp, she fled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She looked at the sensual woman in the mirror, knowing that even after five lovers, she’d never seen this person before. Lips swollen, pupils so dilated her irises looked black, nipples erect against the torture of the silk she longed to rip away so she could know that skillful mouth there, too. Am I easy or do I just need to get laid? she silently asked. There was no answer.
Shamed, she turned the faucet on cold and splashed water over her heated face, using a washrag to roughly bathe between her legs. Then, her senses still incredibly alive, she listened, hoping to hear the hotel room door open and close. Instead, she heard outside his heavy breathing, gradually slowing, but his presence was still so vital she could feel it even through the door.