Page 36 of Clay

“Katie’s okay, and that’s all I need to know. Now kiss me back, I know you want to.”

He pulled away, his gaze direct and seeming to connect straight to her soul.

“Of course I want you,” he said in that deep, dark voice. “I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. But,” he said, “nothing has changed. You’re still under my protection and we’re still trying to find Katie. Doesn’t matter how much I want you, I can’t, not when your safety is at stake.”

She regarded him seriously, knew that for both of them it wasn’t just the safety angle. It was the commitment, the knowing that this would be more than a simple sexual liaison.

“I understand what you’re saying,” she said, “but I want to ask you a question.” She gestured around the sumptuous penthouse suite. “Where in the world could I possibly be safer? There’s always danger in the world. You’ve got people out looking for Hamilton, and I know Katie is safe. Do I wish that she was with us right now? Absolutely. Well, not with us right now,” she said with a grin. “I wish she wasn’t in hiding, and that she had confided in me. But none of that matters right now, where we’re as safe as we’re ever going to be. So be honest, it’s not the safety, it’s this thing between you and me. It will be more than just sex and we both know it.”

Clay flinched the tiniest bit and she knew her words had struck home. Deep in her gut was the surety that the decision he made right now, right in this second, would be what made or broke their future together.

He weighed her words in that quiet way of his, his gaze still direct, his hands still cupping her shoulders, sending ripples of warmth through her. And when a grin kicked up the corner of his mouth, she breathed out a tiny sigh of relief.

“You make a hell of an argument, babe,” he said softly. “A hell of an argument.” And then his mouth was on hers, as he initiated a kiss for the first time between them.

She’d thought that the Clay she kissed at her place had been unbridled, passionate. But this Clay? He was raw, powerful, unleashed. And she loved every second of it.

His mouth plundered hers--there was no other way to describe it. She plundered right back, wanting, needing the taste of him. His hands streaked down her back to cup her ass, and she did a little leap just like she had that first night and wrapped herself around him. He hummed against her lips in approval andsqueezed her butt cheeks. She laughed against his mouth, and he gave her lips one last velvety swipe with his tongue before disengaging.

“I could take you right here up against the wall,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not going to. I’m gonna lay you down in that big ridiculous bed, I’m going to touch and lick every inch of you.” His words were a dark promise, as soft and silken as bed sheets.

She shivered enough for him to notice, and he laughed. It was the first laugh she’d heard from him, and it transformed him into someone younger, more carefree. And infinitely hotter.

He was still laughing as he strode down the hallway to the bedroom, grinning as he disengaged her and tossed her through the air like she weighed nothing, making her laugh with joy before she bounced on the bed. She propped up on her elbows and watched as he began to unbutton his shirt. God he was gorgeous, his skin tan and supple over muscles that were defined enough to be sexy but not overdone. She wanted to lap him up with a spoon. He shrugged out of his shirt, then began to unbutton his jeans, one tantalizing inch at a time. When he slid those jeans over his lean hips to pool at his feet she gulped. His cock was long and thick, made her wonder exactly what else he may have been hiding.

He kicked out of his jeans, and she forcibly yanked her gaze from his crotch and allowed herself to appreciate the rest of him. She had the feeling they’d be enjoying each other all night long.

In the low light she saw the scars snaking over his calves, the gnarly knot of them at his right ankle. A brief flash of sorrow lanced through her, tamping down the lust, but then she pushed it aside.

Tonight she would enjoy this magnificent man. What had happened to him was long past, at least physically, and tonight she planned on practicing some healing, Marvin Gaye style.

She ran her gaze back up his body, lingering long enough on his dick that he coughed out a laugh.

“Jesus, Ivy.”

“Just admiring the goods,” she said slowly, not even needing to ramp up the heat in her voice. It came out thick and sultry. She met his gaze, let him see the hunger in hers, then she crooked a finger at him. “Now bring that fine body over here and undress me, Airman.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, and she could hear the deep south in his reply.

He walked toward her slowly, all fluid grace and rippling muscles, and she felt the tension inside ramp up impossibly higher.

He reached for her, his hands grazing her bare arms, shooting tingles throughout her body. His fingers brushed her belly as he drew the tank top over her head, and he drew in a breath when he saw the lacy bralette she had on beneath.

Her breasts had never been big, and she liked pretty things, so it only made sense to highlight what she had.

His head dipped and he caught one nipple in his teeth, bit down just enough to wrench a cry from her throat, make her back bow in response, seeking more.

He hummed and the vibration rolled through her before he backed away, blew on the wet lace.

“Very nice, Ivy,” he drawled, now completely in command of the situation.

She didn’t care one damned bit who was in charge, she just wanted both of them naked, now.

She hooked her fingers in the waistband of her skirt and panties, ready to shimmy out of them, but he brushed her hands aside then lifted her to her knees.

“Pretty, pretty Ivy,” he said softly, and the intent in his eyes made her shiver. “You gave me an order, and I fully intend to execute it.”

Oh Jesus, how could he make her even hotter?

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