Fucking explosive.
Kind of like now, as his lips descend to my neck, blowing small puffs of cool air against the warmth of my skin.
“You in a rush, Jimi?”
His question comes out so breathy, erotic, that the sound of it zaps through every one of my nerve endings. Sending me reeling in tingles, sweat, and chills I can feel all the way down to my core.
“Why fight the inevitable, right?”
“Oh, for good reason.”
Saint takes the hand in my hair and slides it to my nape, bringing our faces together.
His fingers are the perfect mix of rough and gentle.
Hot and cold. Eager and patient.
Maybetoopatient.
When his lips ghost over mine, I can’t help but wonder how he’d feel against them. Or what’d happen if I threw all hate and caution to the wind and let him have his way with me.
Once again, I should be scared of getting this close to Saint, but here I am, indulging in his distinctive scent of orange…on the verge of taking a bite of a fruit that’s most forbidden.
“And what reason is that?”
Saint glances down at where he holds us, a breath apart from kissing. “Because worse things may happen when you reach the inevitable.” He pauses, then, with a smile cold as ice, adds, “Especially if you don’t stay thefuckaway from my sister.”