Page 36 of France Face-Off
He chuckled. “I promised I wouldn’t touch you unless you wanted me to.”
Her pulse raced through her veins, her blood hot and getting hotter. “You’ve already broken that promise twice.”
“I have, but I won’t go any further.”
“Unless I want it,” she concluded.
“Right.”
She met his gaze and rolled onto her side, trailing a finger across his chest. “I want it.”
Chapter 9
His pulse racing, Striker stretched out across the bed and moved the barrier pillows, tossing them to the floor. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “It’s been a long time since someone held me close. I’d forgotten how good it feels.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “I can hold you, if that’s all you want,” he said, fitting her body against his.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Let’s start here,” she murmured. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”
Striker brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. “You have the most beautiful hair of anyone I’ve ever known.”
She smiled. “I got the thickness from my mother and the color from my father. My mother had brown hair. My father had jet black.”
He twirled a long strand around his finger. “Best of both,” he concluded, “and so soft.”
She tentatively laid a hand on his bare chest. Her fingers weren’t cold like some of the women Striker had known. They were warm and strong, pressing into him, curling just a little until her nails scraped his skin.
He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead, wanting to claim her lips but?—
Alex tipped her head just enough to capture the kiss meant for her forehead. “If you’re going to kiss me, do it like this.” She pressed her mouth against his and ran her tongue across the seam of his lips.
He opened to her, liking how she took charge. At least with her making all the moves, he’d know how far she wanted to go. So far, so good. And he had a condom in his wallet on the nightstand, should they take it all the way.
The hand on his chest moved, skimming over his muscles and down his torso.
Blood thrummed through his veins, pushing heat lower. His groin tightened, and his cock thickened, pressing into her thigh. He prayed she didn’t stop. There was so much more of this woman he wanted to know.
Every last inch.
Her tongue slid past his teeth and caressed his in a long, slow glide, sending his body into a tailspin of longing.
He cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand and deepened the kiss, hungrily consuming her mouth until they both broke away to catch their breath.
She tasted good, the mint of her toothpaste lingering in his mouth, the touch of her hand moving down his torso stirring him into a hard, urgent knot. If she backed down now, how would he have the self-control to stop? He wanted all of her.
When her fingers reached the elastic of his shorts, he drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t go there if you don’t want what comes next,” he warned. “I pride myself on my self-control, but, woman, you’re making me lose it fast.”
She chuckled and looked up into his eyes as she slid her hand beneath the elastic and encircled his dick with her fingers. “I’m not afraid,” she said. “I know what I’m doing.” Her gaze held his. “Do you?”
He cupped her hand through the fabric of his shorts. “Yes.”
She ran her hand up and down his shaft, her warmth and gentleness making him harder by the second. Finally, he had to remove her hand so that he could shed his shorts. Then he rolled her onto her back and leaned his body over hers. “Now would be the time to tell me you want me to stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” she said and leaned her head up to brush her lips over his. “I want everything you’ve got.” She grabbed the hem of her shirt and started to drag it up her body.
Striker brushed her hands aside, leaned back, straddling her hips, and pulled the shirt over her head. He tossed it onto a chair beside the bed and bent to take her lips with his in a blood-burning kiss that robbed him of his breath.
